What is Right: Year One
by Emma Lipardi
Summary: Harry finds himself making a decision to give it all up just to change what has happened. What he doesn't realize is that he gets a second chance to set it right.
1. A Choice

Author's Note: Hi gang! I know I said I would update An Aunt's Love, but this idea has been kicking around in my head and I just couldn't write without setting it down, and I thought "Why not post it?" If I get a good reaction, this will be my second independent story, and if I don't, oh well. I hope you all like. Look for An Aunt's Love update soon!

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Harry ignored everything around him in an effort to detach his current feelings. He wondered exactly how things had deteriorated so fast. He, Ron, and Hermione had searched for the Horcruxes and found all but one. The Death Eaters were down in numbers and Voldemort had taken to hiding away from even his own followers. Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy were a part of the Order of the Phoenix after Dumbledore's journal had been discovered and studied. Harry actually tolerated the two Slytherins, though interactions between the three of them had been strained at best.

Now, though. They lost. That was the only true comment Harry could make on their current situation. A spy of Voldemort's had managed to enchant Remus Lupin shortly after the last full moon and had used the werewolf to locate Grimmauld Place. He had stormed it and almost everyone in residence had been taken unawares, lulled into a false sense of security by the "unbreakable" wards. Even Mad-Eye Moody. Harry attempted to shift into a more comfortable position only to gasp in pain as something shifted inside of him that he _knew_ was not supposed to move like that. He panted a bit and sighed as the relief came slowly to his shoulders. He was bound with magical ropes and Harry knew that the Death Eaters responsible enjoyed tying Harry into a new position every time Harry was moved from his "room", as Voldemort liked to call it.

The door opened and admitted a flood of light. Harry blinked for a few seconds before a rather large hand (Crabbe or Goyle, the senior version) grabbed him and forced Harry to stand. The older wizard did not have much luck in succeeding, as Harry was convinced that one of his legs had broken somehow and was too tender for Harry to do more than balance on it. The man ended up supporting Harry as the teenager walked, holding back his cries of pain as a matter of pride. He had learned one thing from bullies and his uncle: if you do not respond, they grow tired of toying with you. He locked his pain away until later and took a little more weight on his leg with each step. He figured that he would end up with a limp at best, and lose the leg at worst (Voldemort did not offer much medical attention to his "guests", only enough to keep them alive). It would be worth it if Voldemort were destroyed.

Harry's scar came to life as they neared the room Voldemort used for audiences with his followers. Harry had dubbed it the "torture chamber" after his second visit to this room and had laughed about it in his own mind more than once. The sitting room had once been very comfortable, before Voldemort had removed all the furniture and torn the drapes from the windows. The room held a strange sinister appeal to it for Harry. He always studied it when he was brought for his "lessons", as Voldemort liked to call their daily interactions... He had only seen it through visions and some of the books contained in the shelves interested him in spite of his promises to himself otherwise. Voldemort had offered Harry a chance to look at the books and Harry had declined each time, but the man kept offering them, laughing to himself as it took Harry longer and longer to refuse.

Harry didn't know what to make of Voldemort half the time. Sometimes the Dark Lord went straight to torture, as long as he thought Harry could take without too much permanent damage. Other times, to avoid too much harm to his favorite toy, Voldemort would talk with Harry, trying to show him things he wanted Harry to know. Harry smirked to himself. He was damaged, all right, but it was only a minor twitch in his right hand and something he was sure Madame Pomfrey could take…he had forgotten. Madame Pomfrey had been one of the ones taken from Grimmauld Place in the raid. She had been killed their second day here, when she refused to treat Death Eaters and the Dark Lord. Brave, Harry knew. Stupid in terms of survival, but brave. He would miss the feisty little school nurse who had stitched him up more times than he cared to remember. Harry tried to remember how long he had been here, but found that the exact number of days escaped him. He could not remember half of what had happened to him in this house, or who was left if he didn't see them die in front of his own eyes. He had believed that Tonks was dead until he saw Voldemort kill her, as a "lesson" to Harry, when Harry had insulted the Dark Lord. Harry had not insulted the man since. He already had too much blood on his hands; Harry did not want Voldemort to add more.

"Harry, do not hover in the doorway." Voldemort said from his chair in front of the fireplace. It was to be one of their "chats" then. Harry felt his arms released from their bonds and sucked in air as his arm shifted in a way that was _not_ natural at all. "Sit down." A chair appeared across from Voldemort's and Harry made his slow way over to it. He studied Voldemort out of the corner of his eye as he lowered himself into the chair with deliberate care to avoid too much pain from his protesting body. "Still injured, I see?" Voldemort commented.

"Yes, sir." Harry had learned that passive resistance was best. He would show cursory respect to Voldemort to ensure his survival. After Harry escaped, he would be ready to remove Voldemort once and for all, without the worry of the man coming back.

"My Death Eaters tell me that you are refusing to eat again, as well as any medicinal potions offered." Uh-oh. Harry knew what that tone of voice meant and he had a feeling that he was not going to like the results of his actions.

"I've not had much of an appetite, sir." Harry told the wizard across from him as he tried to keep his emotions clamped down and his panic reigned in.

"Yes, well, eating is very important to continued good health (Harry wanted to laugh, but knocked the impending hysteria away) and I must insist that you eat every meal and potion given to you." He motioned to the Death Eater by the door and Harry watched with a feeling of dread deep within his stomach as the man nodded and left the room. He reappeared moments later and Harry realized that the Dark Lord had this planned, not as a "lesson" to Harry, but because he felt the need to kill someone. A struggling form was brought in, clawing at the Death Eater who carried her. It was a little girl, someone Harry did not know, but the ache that settled into his chest (he knew it was not from his injuries) was not any less than it had been for McGonagall.

Harry watched as Voldemort tortured the girl with the Cruciatus Curse for an almost full five minutes. Harry's ache in his chest deepened and it hurt to breathe. He wanted to look away, but previous "lessons" told him that it would only make the torture worse for the girl in the end. Voldemort had ways of inflicting worse pain than the Cruciatus Curse. He had been on the receiving end more than once and did not wish it, even on Voldemort himself. The ache eased a little as green light left Voldemort's wand and hit the trembling child. Her body relaxed at once into peaceful repose, her face returning to her previous innocence. Voldemort motioned for the Death Eater to take her away and sat back down across from Harry. A tray appeared on the table next to Harry and Voldemort looked at it pointedly. Harry hesitated for less than a second before picking up the bowl and spoon. Voldemort sat back in satisfaction as Harry took his first sip of the broth.

Harry kept his face neutral as he ate. The broth used to be chicken, but it was so heavily laced with nutrient and pain potions that its flavor no longer resembled anything normal. Voldemort was not feeding him, per se, but keeping him nourished to sustain life. He drank as much as he could before he placed the bowl back on the tray, feeling slightly nauseous as his stomach became used to having something in it again. He hadn't eaten in three days and wondered why Voldemort was so upset about it. He had endured longer periods of time without food at the Dursleys. Three days was nothing for Harry, even as battered and sore as he was. He doubled over as his stomach cramped. He couldn't really feel it, as the pain potions had dulled everything to just aches, but the muscle contractions were enough to get an involuntary response from Harry. Voldemort merely handed Harry a vial of some kind of potion, which Harry took after receiving a hard look from Voldemort. He downed it and took a deep breath once the cramps left. "Why don't you just get it over with, sir?" Harry asked the man with a slight tinge of anger. "We both know you plan on killing me."

Voldemort eyed Harry with a sly look. "Yes, I do plan on killing you." Voldemort admitted to Harry. "You do make a wonderful toy, and I would hate to lose you too soon." The Dark Lord reached out and patted Harry on the head. Harry allowed the gesture, as Voldemort turned violent if Harry pulled away from him. "There are still many things you have to learn."

"How many friends do I have left?" Harry asked quietly. Voldemort took a perverse joy in informing Harry how many Order members survived from day to day and Harry questioned him as to his friends each time they met. Harry had watched most of them die. Voldemort used his friends as a sick method of control. Harry was ordered to do certain things (mostly eating, sleeping and potions these days) and if Harry disobeyed too much, Voldemort would pull one of his friends out and kill them in front of Harry, as a promise of what would happen to the rest of them if Harry continued in such "atrocious disobedience". Each one had told Harry to resist and not give in, but each one had died, regardless of what Harry did. The Weasley twins were gone, as were Moody, Lupin, Pomfrey, McGonagall, and Tonks. He had no idea how many had been captured originally, so he had no estimation of how many were left. Only what the Dark Lord said.

"Just two, I'm afraid." Harry's head snapped up to stare at the Dark Lord. He regretted the action, as the something that shifted before shifted again, without the same amount of pain, thanks to the potion. Something shifting inside him was just disconcerting. "Yes, my boy," Voldemort oozed a strange imitation of Dumbledore when he was inordinately pleased with himself, "most of your friends tried to make an escape attempt. I am sorry to report that ten of them died." Voldemort gestured to the man at the door again. He nodded and disappeared. "Just two left, and I think that they want to see you." Voldemort told Harry with a grim little smile.

Harry's guard went up at the words. Voldemort never let him see his friends unless Voldemort planned on killing them. He did not want to watch any more deaths today. The little girl had been bad enough. The man returned with two huddled figures. Voldemort stepped into the shadows as the two were pushed into the light. Ron and Hermione. _No._ "Harry!" Hermione screeched. She rushed to him and threw her arms around his rail thin shoulders. "Harry, we thought you were dead!" She sobbed, pulling back to smooth his hair and look over his face.

Ron simply stared at him, unable to take his eyes off his changed best friend. "Blimey, mate." The two words convinced Harry that these were, in fact, his friends. The dread came back to his stomach. His last two friends were going to die. Harry reached out a hand to each of his friends, a resigned feeling creeping over him as he did so. If they were going to die today, he would die along with them. He could not stop Voldemort, but he should be able to weaken him enough so that he would not be a bother to the wizarding world much longer. Ron and Hermione helped Harry to his feet so that the trio could have a group hug again. Harry felt, rather than saw, the Killing Curse leave Voldemort's wand. He pulled his friends closer and closed his eyes in preparation for the end. Voldemort was saying something, but Harry did not hear him. He hugged Hermione and Ron tighter. _I would give everything to change this. Everything I have._ The green light engulfed the trio. Harry felt every bone break in his body as the curse hit. He groaned and fell to the floor, his arms still wrapped around Ron and Hermione. He was dying. An unbidden image came to his head of an eleven year old Hermione lecturing him about hairbrained schemes that could get them all killed, or worse, expelled. He smiled as he felt his life leave him. Harry Potter died with a smile on his face, wrapped in the arms of his two best friends.

A pulse of magic left Harry's body and Voldemort screamed as felt the change. His last Horcrux was gone, and splitting his soul any further would only guarantee his death. He would have to pace carefully from now on. The Order of the Phoenix was no more, Potter was dead by his own decision, and there was only the Ministry. Victory was still there, just waiting for Voldemort to seize it. He could still win!

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"You have a choice." Harry sat up at the voice, amazed that he was conscious of his surroundings. Wait a moment. He was not with Voldemort. This was somewhere new. He had died! He wasn't supposed to be alive.

"Aren't I dead?" he asked.

"You have a choice." The voice repeated. "You sacrificed yourself so that others may live. You said that you would give everything you have to change the outcome. You meant what you said."

Harry nodded at the non-question. "Yes, I did."

"You have a choice." Harry wondered if the voice knew he sounded like a Babbling Beverage. "You have three, actually, from which you must choose." The voice paused. "Your first choice is that you move on past the veil and join your predecessors." Oh, the afterlife. Harry felt hope swell up within him. Mum, Dad, Sirius. All of his friends. "Your second choice is that you are born again as a Muggle, a sort of second chance for a peaceful life." Harry definitely did not want that. "Your third choice is that you change your life." Harry looked up and then felt foolish for doing so. There was no one to look at!

"What do you mean, change my life?" Harry asked.

"You go back to where everything first started and do what you can to change it." The voice explained. "A second chance to get it right." It elaborated. "So, which is your choice?"

Harry deliberated. The veil thing was tempting. Let someone else deal with Lord Snake! He checked his thoughts. If he went back as himself…perhaps he could save a few people. Maybe even himself. "What is the point in going back? I won't know what decisions I should make. I might end up doing the same thing over again." Harry said.

"You would be able to retain your memories, if you think that your mortal brain could handle that." The voice said, clearly bored with Harry at this point. "It is up to you."

Harry debated with himself for several minutes. He wanted to rest with his parents, family and friends. He didn't want to have to worry about Voldemort or people he loved dying. A voice from his past came back to haunt him. _We must choose between doing what is right, and doing what is easy._ Harry sincerely hoped that Dumbledore would choke on his after life lemon drops. "I will return as Harry Potter, with all of my memories attached."

"Very well." Harry felt himself thrust away, only to open his eyes in the cupboard under the stairs. He held up his hands and sighed in resignation. He was ten bloody years old again and he now he to grow up all over again. Lovely.

Author's Note: Let me know what you think.


	2. Shopping

Author's Note: Hi gang! Thanks for all the encouragement. Sorry this took so long. I've been rather busy. Here's the next chapter, and as always, feel free to leave any helpful comments in a review!

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Harry crept out of Number 4 in the predawn light. He was wearing his best fitting pair of trousers, a long sleeved shirt, a jacket, and a filched baseball cap to hide his scar. A threadbare backpack of Dudley's rested on one of his shoulders. It contained a change of clothing, just in case someone recognized him and he needed to change his outward appearance to shake them off. He had packed a few granola bars and apples for the trip there and back. He did not want to eat out more than once today and he wanted to avoid crowds if possible. He did not want a mob following him around Diagon Alley. He patted his back pocket as he went down the walk and gave a grim smile to himself. He was going to Diagon Alley today. He was re-entering the wizarding world.

Dudley's birthday had passed without event. Harry had talked to the snake, but did not make the glass disappear. He had not been locked in his cupboard since then. The only thing he regretted about not revealing the letter's presence is that he was still in the cupboard and not in a bedroom. He remembered the first time around, his thoughts of wanting to be back in the cupboard with his letter. It was true. He preferred the letter. Dudley could have the second bedroom for now. Harry would get it once he returned to Privet Drive…if he returned.

The Dursleys had given him a few strange looks the past few days. Harry knew he was acting a little differently than before, but he could not help it. It was hard to act eleven when he felt nineteen. It was very hard. So, he acted like a quiet child, maybe even a little shy. His relatives seemed to accept it, but he had caught them looking at him with thoughtful expressions on their faces more than once. Aunt Petunia was the one who was the most suspicious. Harry had no idea what to do about it, but only continued on. He needed to get to Hogwarts. That was all he needed.

He did not want any help from anyone. He knew what it would be like, to live his life again. He would be prepared this time around. He stayed up many nights, crafting the persona he could show to those at Hogwarts. He made lists of people safe to talk to, but not befriend, and those he could think of friends without too many problems. He would keep a distance from them all through his personality. He would be reclusive in study and when rumors happened to arise about an Heir of Slytherin, or his mental status, his personality would be so well established that he would be above suspicion. He would be anonymous, even with his Boy Who Lived title.

The Boy Who Lived title would give him a little leeway in a few things and no leeway at all in others. He could afford to be a little quirky and prefer his own company, especially when he let a few "details" from his aunt slip. Harry had decided that she would have told him how his parents had died and why. More importantly, that the killer was never caught and that the wizards were only happy to resume their peaceful existence. Harry knew that the wizarding world slipped into complacency once they all started calling Voldemort by a hyphenated name. Just as they did for Harry. This Harry Potter would know all of that and not forget it. He would be a cautious child, but a quiet unobtrusive child. He would not call attention to himself. He would bury himself in books and hide in the library. He would learn all he could…to protect his family, of course.

Let everyone think what they wanted. Let them be disappointed that they would not have their Gryffindor Hero. Harry didn't care. He would act as he saw fit without regard to anyone else. That had been one of his first mistakes. He had cared about what every single person thought of him. He had been sensitive to their needs and demands and did not pay attention to his own. No small wonder that he had lost his way several times on his journey to defeat Voldemort, only to fail in the end. Voldemort had killed him, and Ron and Hermione had been left to the Dark Lord's nonexistent mercies. Harry liked to think that Voldemort had killed his best friends quickly out of anger. He could only hope. Technically, it hadn't happened, but it was enough to haunt his dreams at night.

The dreams were bad, but he was willing to suffer through them if it ensured that he would be able to defeat Voldemort later. He knew that they would present a problem later at Hogwarts, but for now, his relatives did not know about them. He only slept about five hours a night, but that was a lot compared to what he received while with Voldemort or even before that, with his visions almost nightly at that point. They were not real visions, only fabricated ones for Voldemort's fun, but they were enough to keep Harry from sleep and exhausted. He thrust those thoughts from his mind. He had found an old, barely marked notebook of Dudley's and he now used it to record his dreams and work through them. Hermione had given him the idea when his dreams even woke her in her room. She had sat with him for several nights running until she suggested the notebook. He used the idea now to keep from waking his relatives. It was helping. Not much, but it was the best he could do.

He had found his letter in the hallway and hid it before his relatives could see it. No one knew about the letter, and no one knew that he was leaving. He followed through with his aunt's plans for him to go to Stonewall High. He allowed her to dye the uniform and he tried it on when asked. She mentioned something about taking it in a bit, so that he wouldn't look too out of place. Harry did not want to give any hints that he wouldn't be wearing it to his aunt, so he had thanked her and went to finish his chores.

His chores became valuable to him in more than one way. He hated being scrawny the first time round, and he wanted to avoid that same thing again. He was happy to do them, as the chores served two purposes. He could think without anyone disrupting him and he could train his body. Any loads he had to carry doubled. He resisted his own movements in a hope to build muscle. He was in training to ensure his survival. He got up early every morning to jog around the neighborhood. He knew that trouble would find him again at Hogwarts and he promised himself that he would at least be able to outrun that trouble!

His chores had given him skills that were marketable in the small neighborhood surrounding Privet Drive. There were plenty of respectable spinsters and young mothers in the neighborhood that needed a willing lad to do the yard work, clean and sort the attic and basements, or an approachable child to keep an eye on the kids while she nipped outside to have a gossip with the neighbor next door. Harry offered to do any of those jobs for a small fee and he had gathered quite a nice pile of money in just the few weeks he had been working in the neighborhood. The money was enough to get him to London today and even allow a meal out on his own. His relatives followed the "out of sight, out of mind" policy concerning him. As long as he kept out of their site and his chores were done, they ignored him. He put those types of thoughts from his mind. He would enjoy Diagon Alley today. He was certain of it.

* * *

Harry entered the Leaky Cauldron with a sinking feeling in his stomach. He pulled his cap lower and dropped his head. He did not want a crowd around him. He felt uncomfortable in them since an attack a year ago (Hermione had mentioned something about a defense mechanism of some kind). Harry had not liked having people close to him since then. He weaved through the tables and up to the bar. "Excuse me." Harry said in a soft voice.

Tom turned around and looked down at Harry. "Yes, son? You're rather young to be out by yourself." Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He was working on the _young_ thing. He got it. He was short and scrawny. For now, it served his purposes. People underestimated him. He still couldn't wait to become taller. "Are you lost?"

"I don't think so, sir. This is the Leaky Cauldron?" Harry asked and waited for Tom to nod. The man finally did as Harry hoped. "My aunt told me to ask for Tom so that he could show me the gateway to Diagon Alley, because I don't have a wand yet, and she doesn't have magic." Harry explained and hoped the man would take it. He didn't want to have philanthropic wizards to gather around him when he could manage quite well on his own. "Are you Tom, sir?" Harry asked. He just wanted to go to Diagon Alley.

"Well, lad, you're in the right place." Tom said as he abandoned his rag on the bar and stepped out from behind it. "Just follow me." He told Harry. "You are starting Hogwarts this year?"

"Yes, sir. I'm very excited." Harry was telling the truth. He was looking forward to going home again. He trailed behind Tom like a puppy and followed the man out into the alleyway that lead to Diagon Alley. He was supposed to be a kid, right? He could act like an excited eleven year old if he had to.

Tom smiled at him and tapped the appropriate brick to open the gate. "There you are. Good luck to you."

"Thank you, sir." Harry stepped through the portal and heard the bricks close up behind him. Diagon Alley looked just as brilliant as it had the first time Harry had visited. He wandered around a bit and allowed himself to gape. He had missed seeing Diagon Alley look this way during the war. He smiled to himself and felt at home for the first time in years. No one was staring at him. He was just another random young wizard. No one special at all. He loved the feeling.

Gringotts was his first stop and he hoped that they would allow him access to his vault. All of his plans hinged on having access to his vault. He knew that Dumbledore had his Gringotts key, but he knew the goblins had magic different from the wizards. Perhaps something they could do would allow him to get some money without the required key. He put his head down as he climbed the stairs up to the man doors. The uniformed guard at the door bowed to Harry and Harry gave him a grave nod back. The goblin actually smiled a little bit at the gesture before resuming his stoic glare. Did goblins like children? He made a mental note to look it up later.

He dodged around the people milling about in the lobby and went up to a rather bored looking clerk. "Excuse me, sir?" He asked in his most polite voice possible. The goblin looked down at him.

"Yes, sir?" The goblin asked with a rather pointy-teeth smile.

"This is my first trip to the magical world." Harry started. "I grew up with nonmagical relatives. My aunt was only able to tell me a few things about the magical world. She mentioned that I needed a key to access any bank accounts, but she wasn't sure if one existed. She told me to ask at the bank. May I ask you?" Harry explained everything in a subdued voice. He wanted to appear as normal as possible.

"Your name, sir?" The goblin asked.

"I'm Harry Potter." Harry glanced around as the goblin started paging through a large book at his left. No one appeared to have heard his name. He let out a breath and smiled a bit. He could do this without being exposed. Right?

"You do have an account here with us, Mr. Potter. Two, in fact. One is a trust fund and the other is the family account. You may only access your trust until your sixteenth birthday." The goblin said. "I can retrieve your key for you, if you would like?" The goblin continued.

"Yes, please. Thank you, Mr…" Harry looked to the goblin for his name.

"My name is Manurek, Mr. Potter." He told Harry with a slightly different smile. "Your aunt raised you to be a very polite person." He chatted a bit with Harry while he gestured to a nearby goblin. "Relret will take you down to your vault." He told Harry as the other goblin came up to him. "Take care with young Mr. Potter, Relret." He leaned down and handed Relret Harry's new key. "Do come back and visit soon, Mr. Potter." Harry thanked the goblin and left with Relret. That was…odd. The goblins were acting strange. Almost respectful. He wondered what was different from the first time around to make them act like this. The ones he had met with Hagrid had been surly, at best.

He followed Relret down to the carts and enjoyed the ride as much as the first one. He loved the carts and was happy that they had not changed at all and probably never would. The cart slowed down at Harry's vault and stopped. Relret hopped out and opened Harry's vault. "Here you are, Mr. Potter." He said with a small bow. Harry stepped into his vault and looked around. It looked the same as the first year he had seen it. He accepted the small bag Relret handed to him and gathered two large handfuls of Galleons into it.

"Mr. Relret?" Harry asked after pausing a moment to look at everything in his vault. "Is it possible to convert some of this to Muggle money?" Harry asked the smaller creature.

"Yes, Mr. Potter. We can do that once we return to the surface." He told Harry.

"How many coins would I need if I wanted five hundred pounds?" Harry asked as he stood and looked down at his feet.

"One hundred Galleons, Mr. Potter." Harry gave him a confused look. "The gold coins are Galleons, Mr. Potter. They have the highest value." The goblin then explained how much value each coin had and the exchange rate. Harry nodded his understanding (it was always good to have a refresher course) and gathered the Galleons he needed. He was amazed that the bag continued to hold more and more before he realized it was magical. He felt like the Muggle-raised wizard he was and smiled sheepishly when Relret chuckled at Harry's expression.

The trip back up was just as exciting as the trip down. Manurek waved him back over to his window and smiled down at Harry. "Relret told me that you wanted to change some money?"

Harry gave a confused look between the two goblins. "How did you…?"

"We goblins have magic of our own, Mr. Potter." Manurek said with a smile that was not exactly reassuring. "Now, how much did you want to change? 100 Galleons, was it?"

"Yes, sir." Harry decided that he would file away this entire conversation for examination later. There was something different about the goblins and he could only speculate about what it was. He handed Manurek his money pouch and watched as the goblin changed the money from gold to Muggle.

"There you are, Mr. Potter." Manurek said as he handed over a large stack of bills. Harry blinked before dividing it up and placing it in his pockets. "Was there anything else you needed?"

"No thank you, Mr. Manurek. You have been very helpful." Harry told the goblin with a nervous smile.

"You're welcome, Mr. Potter. Welcome back." Harry paused. What did that mean? Welcome back to the wizarding world? Harry decided that that had to be what he meant. He couldn't have meant anything else, could he? No, surely not.

Harry left the bank a good deal wealthier and had to stop himself from running to Ollivanders. He needed his wand! He had caught himself checking for its presence several times an hour at the Dursleys (another reason why his relatives gave him odd looks). He entered the dusty old shop and looked around. Ollivander was not there at the moment. Well, he was, but not in the immediate vicinity. Harry danced from foot to foot in anticipation. He could almost feel the wand in his hands again.

"Good morning, Mr. Potter." Ollivander said from beside Harry.

"Hello, sir." Harry said. "How did you…?" Harry had a feeling he would be asking that question a lot today.

"I know almost everyone who comes in, Mr. Potter. You've come for your wand?" Ollivander moved away and snapped his fingers. The tape measure buzzed around him and started taking measurements. "Which is your wand hand?"

"I'm right-handed." Harry answered, fighting the urge to bat away the tape measure.

"I see. Well, let's give it a go!" The tape measure dropped to the floor as Ollivander piled several boxes onto the counter. Harry then endured almost twenty minutes of having wands snatched away from him before Ollivander gave his well remembered statement of "I wonder?" He presented Harry with his wand and Harry felt the warmth he missed for so long spread through him and filled him. He waved the wand and watched as bright white sparks fell from the tip of his wand. "Excellent! I told you I would find you a wand. It is curious."

"How much, Mr. Ollivander?" Harry refused to hear how Voldemort could be "terrible, but great". As if anything terrible could be great. He paid his price and left the shop quickly before Ollivander could hold him back. His next stop was for some Muggle clothing and then Madame Malkin's. He dashed through the Alley and back through the Leaky Cauldron in hopes of finding a brand new wardrobe.

* * *

No wonder Aunt Petunia had never taken Harry shopping. It was exhausting! Harry collapsed onto the curbstone and put his bags around him. He had bought a new pair of trainers (only to be worn at Hogwarts), seven button shirts, a few T-shirts, seven pairs of jeans, two pairs of slacks, two jumpers (black and green) new underwear and socks, a jacket and coat, and seven pairs of pajamas. He had also purchased three hats, one for each type of weather. He did not want people gawking at his scar and he would prevent it whenever possible. He had a basic wardrobe now. He planned to spend most of the time in his uniform, but he needed something to wear on the weekends and holidays.

Harry rearranged his bags from five large ones to four large ones (after stuffing both his coat and jacket into one bag) and made his way to the Leaky Cauldron. He ordered lunch while he was there and settled his bags around him in a type of protection fort. He hoped that it would keep everyone away from him. Tom appeared with Shepherd's Pie and a butterbeer and Harry forgot about everything else as he relished his lunch. He had missed butterbeer! He paid his bill and wished Tom a good day as he reentered Diagon Alley, using his own wand to open the gateway.

Madame Malkin's looked quiet and Harry decided that would be the best place to go. He pulled his cap down to make sure his scar was covered and entered the shop. The bell ringing over the door startled him and brought out Madame Malkin herself. "Hello, dear. Hogwarts?"

"Yes, Madame." Harry answered, but didn't have a chance to get out anything else as she took his bags from him and placed them down on the floor next to her counter and pulled him into the back.

"I have another young man being fitted right now." She told Harry. She stood him up on a stool and Harry got a good look at the "young man". Draco Malfoy was looking Harry over. "Let me have that bag of yours, as well as your jacket and hat." Harry handed his backpack to her and slid off his jacket. "Hat, dear." Madame Malkin said a little impatiently.

"Oh, right." Harry said as though he had forgotten it. "Sorry." He took off the cap and allowed her to throw a robe on him and start pinning.

"Hello. Hogwarts too?" Harry wondered if this was the idea of some cosmic joke played by the Fates. He had to be cursed with Malfoy on what was supposed to be an enjoyable day. He checked the thought and frowned. Was this something he was supposed to change?

"Yes." Harry answered. Best to keep things simple and noncommittal for now. He would deal with more complex matters later.

"My father's next door buying my books and mother's looking at wands." Draco told him in the same bored voice as before.

"I thought a wand chooses the wizard, not the other way around." Take that, Malfoy!

"Are you a Muggle-born?" Draco asked with horror in his voice. He seemed to be inching away.

"Sorry?" Harry decided to play with him a little bit.

"Born to Muggles? People without magic?" Draco explained.

"Oh, no. My father and mother were both magical." Harry said with a smile.

"Then how do you not know what a Muggle is?" Draco sneered. Harry raised an eyebrow. Draco had nothing on Voldemort.

"I was raised by, er, Muggles. My parents were killed when I was small. I didn't know I was a wizard until I received my letter from Hogwarts. I live with my aunt and uncle." Harry said as he tired not to laugh at Draco's expression. It was rather humorous to find Draco looking a mix between frightened and disgusted.

"Sorry." Draco said, not sounding sorry at all. "About your parents, I mean." Harry nodded and watched as Madame Malkin pinned a small part of his robes. "So, how much do you know?" Draco asked.

"Um, there's four houses in Hogwarts. There was a rather bad wizard for a while, mostly the reason I live with my aunt and uncle. My mother was good at Charms and my father was good at Transfiguration. There's a wizarding sport played on broomsticks called…starts with a 'Q'."

"Quidditch." Draco supplied. "I don't suppose you play?"

"Not yet. My aunt told me wizards follow the sport like my uncle does football." Harry said quietly. "I can't wait to see it. I wonder how hard it is."

"It depends on the position. Father says that it will be a crime if I'm not picked for the House team." Draco said with the slightest bit of pomp.

"What do you say?" Harry asked. He couldn't help himself. He loved to get Draco riled up.

"Pardon?" Draco said as he turned to face Harry. Madame Malkin snapped at him to return to his original position or he would be up there twice as long.

"What do you say? You've given your father's opinion; what is your opinion?" Harry asked with a smile.

"I hope I make it." Draco said after a moment of deliberation. Well, well, well. It sounded like Draco had opinions of his own, even at this young age. Wonders would never cease. "I'm sorry. We've been talking all this time and I haven't introduced myself. Draco Malfoy." Draco extended his hand and Harry shook it.

"That's you done, dear." Madame Malkin said. Harry hopped down from the stool and turned to retrieve his jacket, bag and hat.

"You're Harry Potter!" Draco gasped out in the next second. Harry closed his eyes for a second before looking up.

"Yes, how'd you know?" Harry said as he looked up to Draco. "Nice to meet you, by the way." Harry said as he pulled on his jacket.

"Your scar!" Draco said as he stepped down from the stool.

"Oh, yeah." Harry smoothed his hair down and put on his hat. "I don't like to show it. But how did that tell you my name?" Harry said to Draco. He was surprised when Madame Malkin nearly picked him up off the floor and hugged him. His feet dangled a few good inches from the floor. "I need an adult!" Harry rasped out as she squeezed his ribs. "Put me down!" Harry demanded.

"Sorry about that, dear. I can't thank you enough." Harry wondered when Madame Malkin went round the twist and eyed her with some trepidation. He moved away from her and placed Draco between himself and her. That was just…frightening.

"You don't know, do you?" Draco said as he rounded on Harry. Harry jumped back. He hated when people got too close to him!

"Know what?" Okay, so he did know, but this seemed to get an honest Draco. "That people in the wizarding world are mad about scars?" Harry felt that most wizards acted in a ridiculous manner half the time and wanted to present that to Draco to chew on for a while. He backed up a pace from Draco and prepared to run. He would run if he had to. He could do it.

"Merlin! I can't tell you here!" Draco turned to Madame Malkin. "What are you waiting for, Madame? Ring up our purchases so we can get out of your shop!" Draco snapped at her. The harsh comment seemed to bring the woman back to her senses. She apologized once more and gathered Harry's and Draco's robes and went to her cash register. "I can't believe you don't know!"

Harry was ready to part from Draco just outside the door, but the blonde latched onto him and dragged him towards Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream shop. "My treat." Draco told Harry with a smile. "You'll need a treat."

"What is it?" Harry asked as the Florean himself came and took their order.

"You're famous, Harry." Harry wondered when Draco had started calling him by his first name. "You defeated You-Know-Who!" Harry blinked and stared at Draco.

"What?" He demanded. Anyone else would have been totally confused. "Who?"

"You-Know-Who." Draco returned.

"No, I'm sorry. I don't know who." Harry said.

"Alright. You know absolutely nothing." Draco sighed. "About ten years ago or so there was a wizard. Some would call him Dark. He did many great things but some were very terrible. He wanted to rid the world of Muggleborns."

"Sounds a bit mental if you ask me." Draco glared at him and Harry fell silent. It seemed as though Draco liked being the story teller.

"Loads of people were afraid of him. He killed whoever stood in his way, and once he decided that you needed to die, you died. One night, and no one knows why, he went after your parents." Harry fought away the memories of the green light and his mother's screams. Would he never get over it? "No one really knows what happened after he killed your parents except that he tried to kill you. After that, who knows? The curse he used didn't go the way he planned. You survived and he did not. Not in one piece, at any rate." Draco shrugged. "You're called the Boy-Who-Lived."

Harry gave himself a few seconds before speaking. "Right. Two questions."

"Go ahead and ask." Draco said as their ice cream arrived.

"One: Is there a chance he's still alive?" Harry asked in a calm voice.

"There is a chance, but no one knows for sure." Draco answered with complete honesty.

"Okay. Second question: What's his name?" Harry looked Draco in the eye. "You've said 'You-Know-Who', but you haven't said his name."

"Um, you're not supposed to say his name. Many people are still afraid of him and are afraid to say his name." Harry wanted to shake Draco.

"That's a little silly. It's just a name." Harry told him. "It's not like he's going to appear if you say it." Draco looked around and leaned towards Harry.

"Lord Voldemort." He whispered. "That's his name." Draco told him. "Don't expect me to say it again." He ordered Harry.

"No worries. I won't be able to stop myself from laughing. 'Voldemort'. There are just too many ways to abuse it." Harry said with a smile. "Right. Now I know. So, I'm famous and that's why Madame Malkin went mental on me?"

"That would be correct." Draco said as he took a bite from his sundae. "Doesn't it bother you to say the name?"

"Why should it?" Harry asked. "It's just a name. A rather odd one, but still a name. I think that I can safely say it without him appearing." Harry picked up his spoon to his neglected sundae and marveled at the healing powers of chocolate and ice cream mixed together. Bliss.

"Suit yourself." Draco said with a shrug. "Others will call you mental." He warned Harry.

"I'm used to it. My cousin calls me that because I like to read." Harry told Draco. "That and 'freak', but I can't help the fact that I'm a bookworm." Harry wondered how soon he could shake Draco Malfoy and continue with his shopping. He still needed books, Potions supplies, stationary, and his owl. He would arrange to have Hedwig stay at Hogwarts (a nice note to the headmaster should suffice).

"A Potter in Ravenclaw?" Draco said as he screwed up his face. "I just can't see it." He said as he returned to his sundae.

"If Ravenclaw's for the bookworms, then I have found my home." Harry announced. He hadn't thought about it, but Ravenclaw could suit his purpose of being unnoticeable.

"You're not bothered at all by what I told you?" Draco asked in a calm voice.

"A little at the fame, but so long as I wear my hat and don't say my name too loud, I should be fine, right?" Harry asked. It appeared that Draco did not have an answer.

"Draco?" A familiar voice drawled from beside their table. Harry looked up at Lucius Malfoy. "Who's your new friend?" He asked in a polite voice with the slightest hint of sneer.

"Oh, hello Father. This is Harry Potter." Lucius looked surprised as he shifted to take a good look at Harry. Harry wondered if he had time to hex the man before the other could reach his wand. His peaceful shopping day was ruined.

Author's Note: I couldn't leave you without a cliff hanger. It goes against my nature. I hope you all enjoyed!


	3. Malfoy?

Author's Note: Sorry this took so long. This chapter was murder to write and I'm still not happy with it. Go to my forums to leave any pressing questions or comments. Otherwise, thanks for reading!

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Harry had to wonder why he always ended up in situations like this. Well, not this situation, exactly, because he had never been in a situation like this before. It was more about everything going wrong. Everything was wrong now. It was wrong like the Dursleys' being nice to him was wrong.

He stood on the stool at Madame Malkin's and tried to keep from glaring at the recent addition to his shopping expedition. Lucius bloody Malfoy, of all people, was to accompany Harry on the rest of his shopping trip. He had muttered something about wizarding duty and Harry was sure he heard the phrase _in loco parentis_ bandied about several times over his head. It was as though Lucius Malfoy thought Harry couldn't hear!

Draco had turned back into his usual prat self a few seconds after his father had appeared and had even sneered once. It was a return to the familiar and Harry was grateful. He didn't think he could handle a completely friendly Draco and odd Lucius Malfoy in the same day. His nerves couldn't take it.

His nerves were shot anyway. He had forgotten how taxing it was to be a part of a crowd for long periods of time. He knew he didn't like them and usually avoided them at all costs, but now he knew why he loathed such things. They made him nervous. And paranoid. His teacher would be so proud but it was kind of annoying to have battle instincts flare up because Madame Malkin had decided she needed to measure him without magic. Harry knew she only wanted to hug him again. That was annoying.

So was being in Madame Malkin's again. He had already finished his business here, but Mr. Malfoy insisted that Harry, at the ripe old age of eleven, would need dress robes. Dress robes at eleven? What was the man thinking? Harry, trying to maintain his persona of "bookworm interested in all things wizarding", which worked on so many levels, submitted to Lucius Malfoy and his bizarre ideas of Harry needing some dress robes. That was how he found himself back on the stool and in front of a slightly hysterical shop owner.

"That color does not suit him." Malfoy told Madame Malkin when she held a sample up to Harry. Goodness. Malfoy knew what colors suited a person. What planet had Harry landed on? "Try darker colors. That color makes him look ill." Harry resisted telling Malfoy it was the elder man's presence creating the ill look. _No, Harry. You've got to think of him as 'Mr. Malfoy' for now. Remember, he could possibly help you before the Dark Lord comes back._

Harry knew that the Malfoy name was rather well-respected until Lucius ended up in Azkaban. He also knew that if he and Draco were friendly acquaintances, then he would not have to worry about watching his back too often at Hogwarts. The only thing he might have to worry about there was avoiding the suspicion of the teaching staff and his dorm mates. Luckily, his persona of 'insatiable Ravenclaw bookworm' was convincing enough for the Malfoys. Snape would be his ultimate test in how well he could act. Snape and Hermione, now that he thought about it. Hermione was too sharp for her own good. He hoped he wouldn't have to alter her memories. He would hate to do it, but he knew how to do it and would not hesitate if it was not the right time for his secret to come out.

"There. That looks much better." Malfoy said. "One black dress robe and one green. Very nice." Malfoy nodded at Harry and then moved to the counter to finalize the purchases with Madame Malkin. Harry hopped down from the stool (he couldn't wait until he grew taller!) and stood next to Draco, pulling his hat down a little further out of habit.

"You won't be able to see if you keep that up." Draco told him in a whisper.

"I can see." Harry said with a shrug. "I can see the inside of my hat." He shrugged.

"Boys." Malfoy _no, Mr. Malfoy!_ drawled. Harry and Draco followed him out of the shop. "I do believe potions' ingredients are next on the itinerary " Harry quickened his pace. Potions ingredients. He knew what that meant. It meant Dreamless Sleep potion. Bruise and muscle salves. Calming potions for when he couldn't take Dreamless Sleep. Potions that would make the next month somewhat restful and pain-free for Harry. He had hated Potions at Hogwarts, but he loved them now. He knew what they could do and how he could use them. They practically guaranteed his survival for the next month.

Harry entered the shop directly behind his guide for the day and looked around eagerly. He remembered exactly where everything was. The shopkeeper wandered out of the back room.

"Mr. Malfoy!" he said with genuine pleasure in his voice. "So good to see you…and young master Draco."

"Yes, thank you." Mr. Malfoy said as he stepped up to the counter. "The boys need these ingredients for Hogwarts." He explained.

"Boys?" The old man questioned as he looked about the shop. "I only see master Draco." He said, peering through the dusty shop as though wondering if Mr. Malfoy had lost one or two of his marbles.

"What?" Mr. Malfoy turned on his heel and saw Harry. "Mr. Potter. I thought you wandered off."

"No, sir." Harry answered. "I'm just short." Growth potion. Yes, that was definitely on his list of things he needed to start brewing. Lots of growth potion.

"Mr. Potter?" The man said as he came around the counter. "Harry Potter." The man appeared to waver for a second on how to greet Harry before he settled on affable uncle mode. "Welcome home, lad." He said as Harry shook his head. "You must be very curious about your new world. Anything in particular you wish to know?"

Draco snorted lightly at the question. Mr. Malfoy eyed his son. "Draco, presentation. One does not snort in public. Or at all."

"Yes, Father." It was bizarre. That one word, 'presentation' could change Draco's face in an instant. Draco went from young boy to pureblood prince in less than a second. It was like a password to Draco's public persona of pureblood brat.

"I know there are books on the subject of Potions." Harry said in response to the question. "Are there any you can recommend?" Harry asked. He would accept any help he could get at this point. Any knowledge or advancement of his knowledge could mean a sooner end to the war.

"One, but it's a might thick for you at eleven. 'Most Potente Potions' should be on every serious Potions' student's reading list." The man said. "You might find a few interesting potions in the pages of that book."

"Thank you, sir. I'll be sure to look for it." _And buy it. And charm it to look like a boring book in which no one else could possibly have interest so I can study it all I want without worrying about looking 'dark' to the population of Hogwarts. I will then attempt to memorize it cover to cover. Who knows when I'll need to know exactly how to brew Polyjuice Potion?_

"Are you trying to corrupt the Boy Who Lived?" Mr. Malfoy asked with a smirk.

"Corrupt?" The apothecary actually whirled around to face Mr. Malfoy and glare at him. "Knowledge doesn't corrupt! Only those who use it for the wrong ends." He smirked at Malfoy and eyed him, almost staring through him. Harry kept his face 'young and puzzled' throughout the confrontation. This man knew Malfoy for what he was.

The man's demeanor changed back to his previous affability and he looked at the lists. "Now, did you want the standard set for the boys here, or would you like the Slytherin layout." HA! Harry knew Slytherins did things a little differently from the other houses when it came to potions. Now he had proof! Too bad he couldn't do anything with the information. Or could he? He filed the information away for future consideration. Who knew? He might be able to use it.

"I believe both would benefit from the Slytherin collection." Mr. Malfoy said with a lazy drawl. "We do have limited time, so if you would?"

Harry watched as the apothecary disappeared into the shelves of his ingredients and came back ten minutes later with two oak boxes. Harry peeked under his lid and found a little bit of everything. He almost shouted with joy when he saw all of the ingredients he would need for Dreamless Sleep potion. He was going to get some sleep, uninterrupted sleep, sometime soon. He couldn't wait. A hand on his shoulder startled him so badly that he jumped, raised his arms to protect his head, and shifted away from the hand. He looked up a second later to find both Draco and Mr. Malfoy looking at him with unreadable expressions.

"Sorry." Harry apologized. "You startled me." He explained.

"I see." Mr. Malfoy did not look convinced. Harry mentally berated himself for being so jumpy. Arousing suspicion like that was not a good thing. "The bookstore now?" Malfoy asked.

"Yes, sir." Harry allowed Mr. Malfoy to shrink his potions' box and Harry pocketed it. He followed the elder Malfoy out the door with a nod of thanks to the apothecary. The street was full but the crowd was not oppressive. They did not appear to know that Harry was there at all. He stayed close to Malfoy and kept his head down. A mob would form in the street if anyone recognized him.

"The bookstore. I'm sure the two of you will be safe here. Do not leave this store until I come to get you. I need to find my wife." Malfoy gave Draco a leather bag that clinked when Draco moved it. Money. "Enjoy yourselves." Malfoy melted away into the crowd.

"How can you like books so much?" Draco asked as the two of them entered the shop.

"How can you like Quidditch so much?" Harry returned. "Same reasons, really." Harry continued as he ducked into the door and hunted for a basket. He had a feeling he would rival Hermione's book collection at the end of today. "We both enjoy different things."

"But, books?" Draco asked in disbelief. Harry ignored Draco and pulled out his list. He had quite a few books to purchase and limited time to purchase them. He did not want Mr. Malfoy to see some of his choices.

He put whatever caught his interest into his basket. He had chosen books mostly from memory of books he had read before and books Hermione had recommended. Books on history, magical theory, defense, Occlumency (he enjoyed reading about it), political science, potions (_Most Potente Potions_ was a definite need in Harry's opinion), as well as many books that could only be found in the restricted section at Hogwarts. He picked up _Advanced Defensive Magic_ and started around the corner to the next section. He wanted to find _Powers You Never Knew You Had and What To Do Them Now That You've Wised Up_ and _Hogwarts: A History._ Hermione swore by both books and they had helped on more than one occasion in his past. He felt, more than saw, a small, giggling body ram into him. He felt himself lose balance and the child who had collided with him started to fall as Harry went backwards. He wrapped his arms around the child and allowed himself to fall. His body would break the child's fall. Harry hit the floor with a small thud.

"Ow." He commented to no one in particular.

"You okay, Harry?" Draco asked softly.

"Yeah." Harry answered. He looked at the little girl currently occupying space on his chest. Two big brown eyes stared at him. "Are you okay?" He asked. The question seemed to be a cue, for the girl let out a wail not unlike that of a banshee.

"Rose?" A mother's frantic voice sounded from the next aisle over.

"She's over here, ma'am." Harry said as he sat up. He picked the girl up and set her on her feet. He inspected her as he stood. The girl's mother rounded the corner. "I think she's more scared than hurt, ma'am."

"Rose, it's okay, sweetie." The mother lifted the girl into her arms and looked her over to reassure herself that her child was not harmed. She let out a sigh and turned to Harry. "Thank you. I just turned my back on her for a second and she got away from me."

"Here's your hat, Harry." Draco said, handing the object to Harry. The woman then let out a shriek comparable to that of her banshee daughter.

"HARRY POTTER!" _Oh, Merlin save me._ The shout acted like a magnet and a crowd of people converged on Harry. Harry picked up his basket and put on his hat, ready to fight his way through the crowd. If he survived long enough, that is.

A person grabbed his hand and shook it while introducing himself. Harry tugged his hand away and backed up. Harry _hated_ crowds. No, hate wasn't a strong enough word. _Loathed._ Yes, that was the correct word. _Loathed._ A woman took her chance and pulled him into a hug. Why did all the women insist on hugging him today? It was annoying. And embarrassing. Harry squirmed to get out of her arms. When had the wizarding world gone mad and more importantly, why hadn't Harry been informed? A sudden cold voice stopped the entire crowd.

"Madame, you will unhand that child." Harry found his feet touching the floor again. Malfoy pulled Harry behind him and Harry was surprised by feelings of gratitude rising in his chest. Never mind that this was Mr. Malfoy. The man had saved him from crowds of adoring wizarding public. "A fine way to treat the boy..." he admonished them with a sneer. "Let's get you away from the crowds, Mr. Potter. The rest can be owl-ordered later, if need be. There is someone I wish you to meet."

Mr. Malfoy ushered Harry up to the counter to purchase his books. Malfoy shrunk the stack and led Harry and Draco outside.

"You okay, Harry?" Draco asked in a soft voice as the pair of them followed Mr. Malfoy.

"I didn't realize how bad it would be." Harry answered him. He was surprised. Very surprised. Hagrid had protected him more than he realized.

"It is a shameful way to act. The mob mentality leaves much to be desired." The comment was classic Lucius Malfoy and it comforted Harry to hear it. Not everything had changed then. Good. Lucius Malfoy led them to a small tea-room that obviously catered to the upper classes of wizarding society. The host did not do more than glance at Harry before asking him to remove his headwear.

Harry allowed himself to be divested of hat, jacket, and backpack before looking around. White linen tablecloths covered every table and his Aunt Petunia would kill for some of the china in the room, if she could stand the idea that it had come from magical people. "Um, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Yes, Mr. Potter?" Lucius Malfoy being polite towards a child was just plain creepy. Harry pushed his unsettled feelings away and turned back towards his host.

"I don't think that this is such a good idea. I'm not quite…" Harry just gestured towards his clothing in a helpless sort of way. "It's all I have."

"We will remedy that with time." _Oh bloody hell._ Harry knew that swearing as an eleven year old would be bad, but he would and could swear inside his head as a nineteen year old. "You needn't worry. We have a private room." _Brilliant. I'm stuck with Malfoy. No, Mr. Malfoy!_

Harry only nodded his agreement and followed Mr. Malfoy. Draco appeared to have relaxed a bit at the prospect of tea and something to eat. It was scary. Malfoy ate almost as much as Ron had. He wondered what Malfoy would look like at breakfast. "Mr. Potter?" Harry looked up at Malfoy and noticed that Mrs. Malfoy was there. "Please allow me to present my wife, Narcissa Black Malfoy. Narcissa, this is Harry James Potter."

Harry offered his hand to Narcissa Malfoy and found that he held neutral feelings towards her. She hadn't actively harmed any of Harry's friends or family. She had not cast curses. She had not been active at all in the war, if he didn't count the Unbreakable Vow she had received from Snape. "It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Malfoy." Harry said politely. Narcissa offered a nod and a brief twitch of the lips.

Harry sat where directed and stared at the table, just a trifle intimidated at the layout. This was…different. He had never experienced anything like this before. Those last few days before Voldemort managed to get them, he and his friends were living as soldiers, grabbing sleep, food, and showers whenever possible. All three didn't necessarily come within the same twenty-four hours. Voldemort hadn't helped his manners either. He was happy to be conscious through an encounter, much less worry about which spoon went where. Harry gave a few colorful curses in his thoughts, aimed only at the Dursleys and Voldemort. This was something he should know by nineteen or at least started to know by nineteen. No, he had to be worried about survival and fighting a war!

Harry mimicked Draco to the best of his ability. The napkin went in the lap. He watched the people around him and desperately tried to keep up. He knew he made a mistake when Draco raised an eyebrow at him. "Did I do something wrong?" he asked hesitantly.

"Mr. Potter?" Harry was a little surprised to hear Narcissa's voice address him. "Have you taken an etiquette class? Any lessons at home?" She asked gently. Harry had not known she could be gentle. Harry was starting to like her already, even if she did act a bit cold.

"No, ma'am." He answered. _Honesty is the best policy, right?_ "Nothing like this."

"Ah. Muggles." That one sound from Mr. Malfoy said many different things. Was there a difference in how Muggles did things and wizards? Was that where Harry made his mistake? Malfoy looked Harry over and seemed to come to some sort of decision. "Draco." Draco turned towards his father. "Please ensure that Mr. Potter joins the Slytherins for their etiquette lessons at Hogwarts. Owl me if Professor Snape objects. You'll learn the way wizards do things in those classes, Mr. Potter."

"You will learn soon enough, Harry. Etiquette is not hard. It's just a matter of practice." Draco then focused solely on Harry for the rest of the meal. He corrected Harry when he needed it and did not taunt Harry about his mistakes. He was, if it was possible, a perfect gentleman. Harry almost frowned when he realized that he almost envied Draco Malfoy…just for his manners!

The adults stayed in their own conversation for the most part. Harry heard odd snatches of it throughout Draco's lecture on 'proper wizarding table manners'. Phrases like 'jumped', 'startled', 'frightened', and 'mobbed' reached his ears. Harry guessed that the adults were talking about him. He tried to divide his attention but Draco occupied all of it and he took Harry through every possible meal scenario. He had to admit it. There was a lot to know and even more to learn.

The meal finished and Harry thanked the Malfoys for having him. His thanks were waved off by Mr. Malfoy and Harry was led back out into the sunshine. He blinked against the glare and wondered how he was supposed to get away from Malfoy. "Did you pick your animal out yet?" Harry heard Draco's question and nearly grimaced. He knew he could not take an animal home. That would be too difficult to hide from his relatives.

"My aunt does not allow animals. She's asked that I not bring one home." The lie slipped out effortlessly and Harry blanked his face to avoid Malfoy questioning his answer further.

"Surely she would allow you one?" Mr. Malfoy pressed.

"No, sir." Harry answered firmly. "She cannot stand animals of any kind in the house and I promised not to get one." Harry said. "I do not wish to disobey my aunt, sir."

"Very well." Malfoy tapped his cane on the ground. "May we accompany you to the Floo?" _To find out my location? I don't think so._ Harry pulled his jacket and hat back on before shaking his head.

"No thank you, sir. I'm sorry. I came by bus." Harry informed him with a smile. "I think I may have just enough time to catch it if I leave now, sir." He said, ready to walk away.

"May I call it for you?" Malfoy asked.

"Call it?" Harry asked. No, he didn't want the Knight Bus! Wait, was there a Day Bus? "You can't call a Muggle bus, sir." Harry answered. "Thank you for all of your help, sir. I truly enjoyed today." _Before you showed up._ "I guess I'll see you on the train, Draco." He said to Draco.

"Yes. I'll see you then." Draco said as he shook Harry's hand. Harry dashed off before Malfoy could say anything more. He weaved through the crowds and ducked out through the Leaky Cauldron. Harry wondered if the Knight Bus was in actual operation.

"Hello again, lad. Was your shopping successful?" Tom asked as Harry walked past him.

"Yes, sir. Thank you." Harry said. "Is there something called the day bus?" He asked, purposely using a difference in the name. He was Muggle-raised, after all.

"Day bus? No." Tom said as he wiped the bar with the same rag from earlier in the day. Didn't the magical world know about germs? Harry fought the urge to gag as he turned a mournful face to Tom.

"There isn't? My aunt said…" He trailed off and looked around, obviously worried about his transportation home.

"Do you mean the Knight Bus?" Tom asked.

"That's it!" Harry whirled and faced Tom again. "Would you be willing to point out where I might catch it?" Harry asked. "My aunt recommended that way home. She said it would be faster." Okay, so Harry knew he was laying it on thick. He wanted to go back to Privet Drive where he knew he was safe. For now, at least.

"Sure, lad. You could call it yourself. Just raise your wand. It'll appear." Tom said. Harry thanked Tom several times and weaved through the patrons to the door that led to Muggle London. He stepped outside and tried to ignore the crush of people about him. He raised his wand and was relieved to see the double-decker bus appear in all its purple glory.

"Wisteria Walk, Surrey." He gave as his destination. He had to figure out how to slip under his relatives' notice and what better way to do that than slip in the backdoor?

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Author's Note: Here's hoping the next chapter is up soon! 


	4. Home Sweet Home

Author's Note: Okay, so this took a little while. I hope you all enjoy. FYI: The soundtrack to "The Phantom of the Opera" gives some good inspiration.

* * *

Harry opened the front door and nudged his trunk out onto the walk. He shut the door behind him and pulled his new cap onto his head. He removed the spare house key from under the mat and locked the door. Harry hefted his trunk into his arms and started off to Wisteria Walk. He had left a note to his relatives, explaining his decision as to why he had handled things the way he did, asking that they only understand the decision. He never expected them to accept it. Finding a place to stay would be easy enough for Harry. Money always worked in the wizarding world. The society of magical Britain seemed to have frozen in time in the early days of the nineteenth century. No one would ask questions so long as the Galleons kept coming. Money was often the only language some people spoke, especially in the back roads off Knockturn Alley. True, it wasn't the ideal option for Harry, but it was the best he could find right now. 

The trunk was getting heavier by the second. That had been rather interesting once the spells wore off. Harry's little cupboard room had become intensely claustrophobia-inducing when everything he had purchased returned to its original size. Harry had nearly been buried by his clothing alone. He had packed his trunk with everything but his books. He hid those under his cot and behind Dudley hand-me-downs. He had overestimated the space available to him and could not brew any potions, so he studied instead of slept. He practically memorized his first year texts, amazed at everything he had forgotten. He read his new books with equal enthusiasm and took careful notes of the more complicated books he had purchased. He felt very prepared for life at Hogwarts now.

The Knight Bus appeared and whisked Harry off to London. He barely noticed the trip, trapped in his thoughts as he was, and thanked Stan and Ernie when they left him near King's Cross. He pulled his trunk to the station and loaded his trunk onto a cart. The station was nearly abandoned at this hour, but he knew that the overnight trains and morning commuters would soon arrive. He wheeled his trunk to a small kiosk and bought some breakfast for himself to settle down to wait for his train. He removed a tiny book, _A Muggleborn's Guide to the Magical World_, from his pocket and started reading.

He was halfway through the book when he looked up and noticed the time. He stood and slipped the book back into his pocket. His ticket said 9 and ¾. He went to the barrier and casually slipped through. This was rather different from his first desperate dash through the barrier, thinking he was going to splatter himself all over a solid brick wall. He could almost laugh about it now. The Hogwarts Express was just as brilliant as he remembered and welcomed him with clouds of friendly steam. Ten minutes later found him settled in a compartment and back into his book. It was time to start his persona. Harry Potter – Bookworm Extraordinaire. He hoped Hermione would not mind some competition.

He was just starting the chapter called _The Various Means of Travel_ when his compartment door slid open. "Finally! Someone who looks sane!" A frazzled Hermione Granger came into the compartment. "Do you mind if I sit with you?" She asked as she dragged her trunk in.

"No." Harry answered. He finished the introductory paragraph about travel and looked up. "What did you mean by 'someone who looks sane'?" Harry asked. Hermione only gestured towards the window. Harry glanced out and saw a large crush of people. "Oh." That explained a lot. He was glad he was already on the train.

"You're Muggle-born too?" Hermione asked excitedly after seeing Harry's book. "I was so surprised when I received my letter. No one in my family is magical at all. I've already read all of our schoolbooks and some extras my parents allowed me to buy. My name's Hermione Granger, by the way." Harry was glad his friend was still the same.

"Actually, my parents were both magical, but I was raised by my Muggle relatives. I, too, did not know I was a wizard until I received my letter. All of the books are interesting and my favorites are Transfiguration and Potions. I'm amazed that you said all of that in one breath and my name is Harry Potter." He sat up and offered his hand to her.

"Are you really?" Hermione asked as she shook his hand. "I've read about you and how you defeated the Dark Lord." _Oh dear Merlin. It was beginning already._

"You mean Voldemort?" Harry asked. "I find that story a bit dubious myself. He must have said the incantation wrong or something similar. _Magical Theory_ said mispronunciation has caused many accidents."

"Yes. Uric the Oddball did the same thing when he said the Summoning Charm incorrectly. They say that's how he received his nickname." _Good old Hermione._ Hermione smiled at Harry and moved forward to the edge of her seat. Harry recognized that look. It was her _I've found someone of intellectual equality_ look.

"There you are, Harry! I've been scouring the train for you." Harry looked up and saw Draco Malfoy standing in the doorway. He did notice that Crabbe and Goyle were missing. "My parents were disappointed when they did not get to meet your relatives." _I bet they were. _

"Draco Malfoy, this is Hermione Granger. Hermione, Draco Malfoy, an acquaintance from Diagon Alley." Harry introduced the pair and waited. "I'm sorry, Draco, if you or your parents worried. I came alone this morning, so they wouldn't have met my relatives in any case." Harry explained. "Do you have your own compartment, or were you looking to join us?"

"Harry, you're sitting with a Muggleborn." Draco told Harry in a loud whisper.

"So?" Harry shrugged. I'm Muggle raised. Hermione and I will be going through the same experiences." Harry stopped speaking and waited for Malfoy to make his decision. Draco muttered something to the effect of "see you later" and left the compartment. Harry had no doubts that he would see Draco later. The boy seemed fixated on him for some reason.

Harry and Hermione were undisturbed for the rest of the train ride. They took turns using the compartment to change into their robes and spent the rest of the ride comparing notes about _Hogwarts: A History_.

They left the train with everyone else (Harry's cap firmly on his head) and followed Hagrid's booming voice. The half-giant appeared to be searching the crowds for someone. Harry allowed the bill of his hat to hide his face while he fought down the panicked sensation in the back of his throat. He had a feeling that Hagrid was looking for him.

Draco came out of nowhere and pulled Harry towards the boats. Harry, in turn, latched onto Hermione. Hermione squeaked at the sudden tug and shot Harry a glare. Harry could only smile. He had missed his friend.

Draco looked quite put out at the idea of Hermione sharing a boat with him. Harry tolerated his fuming for only a few minutes before he spoke up. "You don't even know her." Harry said. "I've lived long enough with my relatives to know that actions count more than anything else. Stop being stupid." Draco fumed even more after that.

"Harry. You don't have to say things like that." Hermione whispered. "I was warned that prejudice happens, even in the wizarding world."

"Only idiots judge people before they know them. I thought Draco was smarter than that." He explained just loud enough for Draco to hear, but quiet enough to deny that he wanted Draco to hear him. He noticed a slight change in Draco's posture at that and decided to leave things well enough alone for now. Draco was not stupid; perhaps changing the way things happened wouldn't be too hard.

The Slytherin seemed willing to ignore Hermione's presence by the end of the boat ride. He didn't speak to her and he didn't sneer at her. It was better than Harry had hoped.

McGonagall gave the small speech about houses and then mentioned that any headwear that was not magical was not allowed at Hogwarts. Harry was happy, for now, that he was short. He was hidden behind Draco when he took off his cap and shoved it into his pocket. The professor led them all into the Great Hall and up to the Sorting Hat. Harry listened to his first year song again and waited patiently. He cheered when Hermione made it into Gryffindor and Draco into Slytherin.

"Potter, Harry." The whispering started immediately as Harry slipped from the crowd of children and went up to the stool. He perched on the stool, more than aware of everyone's eyes on him, and felt the Hat lowered over his eyes.

_"Ah, Harry Potter. I've been waiting to meet you. Well, to business then."_ There was a moment's pause and then _"Mother of Merlin and all the Founders!"_ Harry knew the Hat was not addressing him. _"This will not do at all! How did this happen? I cannot Sort you!"_

"I'm not asking you to Sort me." Harry said in his head. "I wish to go to Ravenclaw." He told the Hat.

_"No, I refuse!"_ The Hat snapped. _"You're a grown man, not a child. Your appearance does not deceive me."_ What followed was a fifteen minute argument between an old artifact from Godric Gryffindor and the Chosen One. The argument did not end as Harry hoped. He extracted a promise from the Hat not to reveal his secret, but the Hat refused to Sort him.

"Please, just say 'Ravenclaw'." Harry begged the Hat when the whispers turned into loud questions.

_"Absolutely not!"_ Harry had to resist the urge to set fire to the Hat. _"You can't make me Sort you and I refuse!"_ Harry finally grabbed the Hat off his head and stood up. He looked up at Professor McGonagall with a lost expression and shrugged.

"It refuses to Sort me." He told her in a low voice. "Does this mean I have to go home?" Harry allowed his face to fall into a deeply disappointed expression. Why did Fate always have to work against him?

"Oh, for goodness sake!" Draco stood from the Slytherin table. He marched up to crowd around the Sorting Hat, grabbed Harry's arm, and pulled Harry over to the Slytherin table. "He'll stay with the Slytherins until something is figured out." Draco sneered. "We're all starving and he's," Draco paused to point at Harry, "thin enough as it is!" Harry wondered if Draco knew that Molly Weasley had said the same thing on any number of occasions. He guessed not. Draco was not aware of the true state of Harry's life.

Dumbledore motioned to McGonagall and the Sorting continued. "So much for being normal," Harry grumbled to himself.

Draco only raised an eyebrow. "You were never normal."

"I was trying to forget that, thanks." Harry told him. The Sorting passed quickly and the Feast appeared after Dumbledore's brief words of "Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!" Harry loaded his plate with vegetables, chicken, and rice. Draco just rolled his eyes at Harry's choices but kept silent until Harry chose fruit salad for dessert instead of the many sweets piled on the table.

"Definitely not normal." Draco said after a serious inspection of Harry's choices.

"Shut up." Harry was glaring at the table now. The table, or the food, obviously felt Harry had not consumed enough food and was making it known. A slice of chocolate cake was attempting to sit in front of Harry. He pushed it away. It slid back in front of him only two seconds later. "This cake is possessed." He informed Draco. "I don't want any cake!" Harry snapped at the plate. "Draco, please save me from the cake. It wants me to eat it."

Draco looked at Harry as though he was mad. "Harry." Harry had to wonder if Draco knew he sounded like Hermione with the way he said that. "Cake cannot…" He stopped talking as the cake slid back in front of Harry again. "Okay. You're not mad. I saw that too." Draco snatched the cake from the table and handed it to Crabbe. "Crabbe, chocolate cake."

Harry thanked Draco and then jumped as a bowl of ice cream appeared in front of him. "Excuse me." Harry said calmly to Draco. He pushed the ice cream away from him and lowered his head to the table. "Just kill me now." Harry requested of Draco. Harry felt something cold touch his head. The bowl had nudged its way up to Harry's head. "Or the ice cream. I don't care which."

"I'll kill the ice cream." Draco said as he pulled the bowl away from Harry. Harry sighed. His life could never be simple, could it?

"Harry Potter?" Harry looked up to see the Head Boy standing there. "Follow me, please." Harry nodded to Draco and followed the Head Boy. Was he being sent home now? No, Dumbledore wouldn't allow that to happen. Harry decided to play the curious eleven year old and peppered the Head Boy with questions about Hogwarts. He was surprised when they were actually answered. "Ice Mice."

Harry watched as the gargoyle jumped aside from the staircase that led to the Headmaster's office. The boy motioned for him to go up the stairs and Harry had to guess that it was a record. The headmaster's office on the day of arrival. He raised his hand to knock when Dumbledore's voice stopped him.

"Come in, Harry." _So, I'm 'Harry' already, Headmaster?_ Harry opened the door and stepped inside with an apprehensive expression on his face. The Heads of House were already gathered and Harry felt a rather odd sensation settle into his stomach. This was going to be difficult. He hadn't expected to be confronted by his past all at once. The familiar faces that were wearing reassuring expressions (except for Snape) only made him think of what their faces looked like in death. He had thought that coming back to Hogwarts would be easy for him. Hogwarts had always been home to him, a place where he felt mostly safe and protected. Now, it seemed as though it only brought his personal demons back to confront him. He took a deep breath and strengthened his Occlumency shields to block out everything. He couldn't allow anything to slip now. "Please, sit down."

Harry lowered himself into the chair indicated and waited patiently. A sudden commotion from the corner startled everyone gathered in the office. Fawkes trilled and streaked from his perch to Harry's lap. Harry jumped out of his chair in shock. He was not used to having slightly deranged magical birds leap into his lap like that. Fawkes trilled again and perched on Harry's right shoulder. Harry turned to look at him and saw tears brimming in Fawkes' eyes, but they did not spill. The familiar trilled once more and head-butted Harry on his forehead. Harry reached up a cautious hand and scratched under Fawkes' beak. The phoenix seemed satisfied and left Harry's shoulder in favor of his perch.

"Odd." Dumbledore commented as he looked at the phoenix that now ignored the goings on in the room. Dumbledore studied Harry for a minute before smiling at him. "We appear to have a student that needs to be Sorted, but the Hat refuses to Sort you. He won't say why, but he has said that he won't Sort you and we can't make him. This is the first time this has happened." Dumbledore said in a speculative way.

"Sir, I'm sorry. I don't know what happ-" Harry snapped his mouth shut when Dumbledore shook his head and smiled.

"This is not your fault, Harry. Not to worry, we'll figure out where to put you, I'm sure of it. Now, these are the Heads of House here at Hogwarts. I'll allow them to introduce themselves to you." Dumbledore said. Dumbledore was just as cheerful as always.

"An honor to meet you, Mr. Potter." Professor Flitwick was the first to speak. "Professor Filius Filtwick. I am the Head of Ravenclaw House. I'm sure you heard the song, but Ravenclaws are not all about study. We have lots of fun too!" Harry smiled at the teacher and shook the offered hand.

McGonagall eyed him a bit before speaking. "Well, there is certainly no doubt you are James Potter's son. You look like him." She said. "Minerva McGonagall. I am Head of Gryffindor." Fair and no-nonsense. Just like her. He had missed his old teacher more than he knew.

"Thank you, ma'am." Harry said as he shook his head. "I'm afraid I didn't know my father at all, so I'll have to take your word about my looks." He gave her a small smile and turned to Professor Sprout.

"Hello, Harry. My name is Professor Pomona Sprout and I am Head of Hufflepuff." Harry had forgotten how nice Professor Sprout was. He couldn't see himself in Hufflepuff, but that was a definite back up plan if he couldn't get into Ravenclaw. Harry shook her offered hand and smiled again before turning to Snape.

Professor Snape stood glaring down at Harry with all of his might. Harry felt something glide along his Occlumency shields, but he ignored it in favor of waiting for Snape to introduce himself. "Severus." Dumbledore whispered from behind Snape.

"Professor Severus Snape. Potions Master. Head of Slytherin." He said shortly with no feeling in his voice at all.

Harry thought quickly. He needed to get along with Snape, regardless of how the man felt about him. It was time for a little, uh, misdirection. "Severus Snape?" He asked as he managed to look like he was searching his brain for some forgotten fact. "'Youngest Potions Master in a century' Severus Snape? You worked on the Wolfsbane potion with Damocles Belby during your studies…I'm going to be learning from you?" Harry took a deep breath before putting out his hand. "I'm honored to meet you, sir. I can't wait for your class." Harry wondered if he overdid for a short three seconds before Snape reached out, grasped his hand, shook it exactly once, and dropped it as though it burned him. Harry grinned at him before resuming his seat (he couldn't remember when he stood up) and smiled at the Headmaster.

Snape was eyeing Harry with an unreadable look. Harry ignored it. He did notice amused looks from the other professors. "Have I said something wrong?" He asked the room in general.

"No, Mr. Potter." McGonagall said. Harry knew that look. He also knew McGonagall well enough from his past to see that she was holding back laughter.

"Let us move on, as it is getting rather late and Harry must be getting rather tired." _Oh, no. Not tired at all. I would not be disappointed to never sleep again…though now I have access to Dreamless Sleep…_

What followed was a fifteen minute questioning session that had Harry thinking that someone had decided to have a bit of fun with him. The questions were absurd. _Do I like rabbits? What kind of question is that?_ "I don't really have an opinion one way or another, sir." He had answered the headmaster. Rabbits? What did that have to do with anything? _Do I like sweets?_ "No. Not at all." Harry smiled a bit when he answered that question. He couldn't stomach sweets anymore and had real desire to embark on the rotting of his teeth now that they were good again. Harry felt Legillmency several times as he answered questions and was becoming annoyed. They couldn't get in. Why didn't they believe that at first look?

Harry raised a hand to his forehead and massaged the skin there with a frown. "Are you alright, my boy?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes, Headmaster. It's just a headache. It's been a long day." Harry frowned again as he felt a familiar touch on his mind. Snape was trying now. _Right. Time to stop this._ "Ow." He commented, rubbing harder. The Legillmency backed off and Harry noticed Snape and Dumbledore exchanging looks.

"Mr. Potter, would you step out into the hall for a moment?" Harry nodded and left the room as Dumbledore requested. The Heads were obviously going to discuss him. Harry noticed a Silencing Spell up and decided to wait it out. He was ready for some downtime. _Rest when you can, Potter. You never know when you will sleep next._ The words of his teacher startled him and he smiled a bit. The man had known what he was talking about, though Harry never did learn the sleep thing without being heavily dosed with potions after the first year of the war. Harry jumped as he felt a disturbing vibration in the office behind him. Had someone thrown a chair?

The door opened again and McGonagall beckoned Harry back into the room. Harry stood in front of the Headmaster and waited. "Well, Harry. We've managed to come to a decision."

"Really? What's my House?" Harry was ready to leave. Now. While sleep was not an option, relaxation was possible, and Harry was just a little tense from the situations of the evening. Seeing a lot of people he had known as "dead" was just a bit disconcerting for him.

"The decision is up to you, my boy." _Oh this is just brilliant! I could have made this decision an hour ago!_

"I'm a bookworm, honestly. I love reading and learning new things. There is a House like that?" He almost smiled when he heard Snape snort under his breath.

"Ravenclaw." Snape said shortly. Snape seemed to be holding his breath. Why, Harry didn't know, but he had a feeling the man was offering up silent prayers to whatever gods he had that Harry _not_ be in his House. Not that Harry minded. The dungeons were too cold for a continuous habitation in Harry's opinion.

Harry smiled and turned back to Dumbledore. "I'll take Professor Snape's suggestion." He told Dumbledore. "I choose Ravenclaw."

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Author's Note: I hope you all enjoyed. "An Aunt's Love" should be updated soon. Check my forums! 


	5. Pop Quiz

Author's Note: And Chapter 5 is here! Enjoy!

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Harry turned a page in _A Compendium of Common Curses and Their Counter-Actions_ and sighed. He had not slept at all, true to his own predictions made in the Headmaster's office. All thoughts of sleep had left his mind when he saw Terry Boot in the dorm. His memories flared up and he remembered that Terry Boot's body had only been identified by a potion, much like Muggle DNA testing. Terry had died defending his family.

Harry had changed from school robes to pajamas, so that he could use the excuse of not being able to sleep should someone find him, and grabbed a book to read. He glanced up at the clock and thought it was time to get ready to work out. He closed his book and nearly let out a burst of defensive magic when he noticed that he was surrounded.

By House elves. A dozen pairs of tennis-ball eyes blinked up at him. A few of them were seated next to him, while more were gathered on the back of the sofa, and the rest scattered on the floor at his feet. "Er, can I help you?" He asked the group in general. They all made funny noises Harry recognized as house elf laughter.

"Mr. Harry Potter is so funny!" One elf said. Harry guessed he was the one in charge. "Mr. Harry Potter sir has already helped the elves by returning." He said simply.

"Returning?" Harry wondered if this had anything to do with his secret.

"Harry Potter is older than he appears." The elf said. _Well, that answers that question._ "Much older than a first year. We know." The house elves all tittered in amusement. It reminded Harry of _The Wizard of Oz_.

"Oh, well, I'm sure you'll keep my secret." He stood and the elves on the floor jumped to their feet and surrounded him. _Brilliant. Simply brilliant. Now I might step on one._ "Was there something else you wanted?" Harry asked the one he had spoken to.

"Mr. Harry Potter is so kind to return to save us all again." The head elf said. "So kind to battle the horrible He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named." Harry fought the urge to hiss _Voldemort_ at the elves. "My name is Button, Mr. Harry Potter, sir. I am head of the Castle Elves." The elf stood on the arm of the sofa and gave a short and formal bow. Harry inclined his head in return. "Mr. Harry Potter will have many important things to do, yes?"

"Eventually, Button. Please, just call me Harry." Yes, he was twenty years old, but he couldn't see himself as a _sir_ quite yet.

"Of course, Harry, sir!" The elf said brightly. Harry fought the urge to sigh. 'Harry, sir' was better than 'Mr. Harry Potter, sir'. "The Castle Elves, the Kitchen elves, The Laundry elves, and the Library elves all wish to thank you." Button explained. Four elves separated themselves from the group at his feet and bowed.

"Minks, Harry, sir." The first elf said softly. "I'm a Castle elf, sir." Harry noticed that he was not dressed in a tea towel, but in a crisp pillow case.

"It's nice to meet you, Minks." Harry answered with a smile. Large yellow tennis ball eyes blinked at him and started to tear up. The elf thanked him and hid his face in his pillow case.

"I'm Serry, sir." The next elf said in a sunny voice. "I'm a Kitchen elf. I'm sorry, sir, that you did not enjoy my suggestions at dinner." Serry stopped and its (her? The elf reminded Harry of Molly Weasley) ears twitched.

"Oh, that was you with the cake?" Harry asked. _There's one mystery solved._

"Yes! You noticed!" Serry jumped in place, obviously happy that Harry had noticed its (her) interference. "Harry sir needs food to become strong. She (there could no other possibility with her scolding tone) said.

"I don't care much for sweets." Harry said with a smile.

"That is easily fixed, Harry sir." She said. "I'll bring you a list, and you can mark off things you don't want to eat." The elf said. "We have needed to customize diets before." _House elf dietician. Who knew?_

"I'm Pidgy, Harry sir." A slightly excited elf said next. "I work in the laundry." Pidgy gave a short bow and fell silent.

"It is nice to meet you, Pidgy." Harry said. Pidgy turned a darker shade of celery and smiled at Harry as he stepped back.

"Tome, Harry sir." The last house elf said. "I work in the library. I can help with any of your library needs." He too gave a short bow before taking his place in line.

"Thank you, Tome." Harry said. The elves resumed their seats, though Minks was still sobbing into his pillowcase. "Minks, please stop crying. I'm just a normal person." This statement only caused Minks to cry harder.

"Minks is a very young elf, Harry sir." Button said to Harry. "He is just very happy to meet such a great wizard." Button gave Harry a look that was close to begging.

"I understand." Harry said. He knew house elves could be rather difficult creatures in their beliefs. Minks would continue to believe that he was meeting someone of Merlin's status until the elf decided otherwise.

"Minks, Serry, Pidgy, and Tome are all assigned to you while you stay at Hogwarts." Button announced. Harry stared at Button in shock. "Minks will care for your things, Serry will look after your meals and snacks, Pidgy will take care of your clothing and linens, and Tome will assist you in the library." Button looked quite pleased at his little speech and turned to Harry with a smile.

Harry could only stare. This would be akin to walking around with a sign that said _I am the Boy-Who-Lived_. "That's not necessary, Button." Harry said calmly. He couldn't afford to have house elves dogging his every step. Freedom of movement was essential to all of his plans.

"Oh, but it is!" The little elf shrieked. "The house elves wish to care for Harry Potter, so that he has the free time he needs to do what he must." Button actually looked desperate.

"I can't talk you out of it, can I?" Harry asked. House elves were some of the most stubborn, bull-headed creatures he had ever met! He watched as twelve little heads shook in the negative sign. "Very well." He said in defeat. House elves were delicate – and determined- creatures.

Minks burst into a fresh round of tears, Serry jumped up and down, Pidgy danced in place, and Tome smiled. House elf celebration. "Quiet!" Button said. "Thank you, Harry sir." Button said sincerely. "Good day to you." Button made a quick gesture and all of the house elves disappeared.

_That was completely strange._ Harry thought as he entered the dorm. He placed his book on his shelf (each Ravenclaw received a small bookshelf and desk as part of their furnishings) and opened his trunk. He pulled out a pair of jogging pants, T-shirt, and trainers. He had forgotten exercise clothes during his trip to London and had purchased some in Surrey. It had been tricky to get those bags into the house. His aunt never did figure out how her water in the kettle boiled so quickly.

He pulled on his second trainer and left the Ravenclaw dorm. He snuck through the halls, grateful that everyone (including Filch, his cat, and the ghosts) were elsewhere. He arrived at the Room of Requirement and paced. He opened the door when it appeared and found an exercise room exactly like his teacher's set up. He sighed in contentment, glad that he was back on familiar ground.

* * *

Harry was the first to arrive in the Great Hall that morning. He chose a seat at the Ravenclaw table and pulled out his copy of _A History of Magic_ and started reading.

"Hello again, Harry sir!' Harry jumped a bit at Serry's voice. "I've brought this list, as promised."

Harry gave a quick glance around and saw that the Great Hall was still empty. "Thank you, Serry." Harry accepted the rolls of parchment and opened them. Tiny writing filled the space. "Goodness." Harry pulled out a ball point pen and read through the first scroll. He crossed out "jellybeans" and "sugar quills" before moving onto the next scroll. He crossed off red meat, sausage, bacon, and butter on that list. Almost all of the pudding section joined the meat. He would still accept fruit salad, angel food cake, and yogurt as options. White bread and pasta were crossed off in favor of their whole wheat varieties. "I think that's it for now, Serry." Harry said as he handed the scrolls back to her. "Thank you again."

"My pleasure, Harry sir." Serry clasped the scrolls to her chest and disappeared. Harry returned to his book for almost ten minutes before his breakfast appeared. He found a bowl of porridge, what appeared to be a cheese and broccoli omelet, whole wheat toast, a bowl of fruit and yogurt, a glass of milk, another of orange juice, and a small cup of tea. It was enough for an army. He started with the cereal, found ham in his omelet, the toast perfect, and the fruit tangy and fresh. He polished off his meal and was sipping his tea when he noticed someone staring at him.

"Can I help you?" He asked patiently.

"Are you really Harry Potter?" Terry Boot asked. Harry kept his face blank as he looked at the eager young Ravenclaw in front of him. How did Terry Boot think he was going to die? Did he have any idea that he had died what many called an honorable death as he helped to defend his family?

"Yes." Harry answered. "You are?" He asked. _An incredibly brave person willing to give everything for the people he loved._ A vague ache settled into the pit of Harry's stomach as Terry reached out a hand.

"Terry Boot. I guess you and I are sharing a dorm room." Terry said with a smile.

"Yes, I saw you this morning when I left." Harry finished his tea and turned his full attention to Terry.

"Wow. You must have woke up really early." Terry said as he sat down across from Harry and started to spoon up some breakfast.

"I've always been an early riser." Harry shrugged and returned his attention to his book as Terry started eating. He jumped again (ignoring the fact that he was far too jumpy…he had just come out of war) when a rather majestic owl swooped down in front of him and stuck out a foot. He eyed the owl and gave a discreet search for anything that could be harmful about the owl or the letter. The owl gave an impatient hoot and raised its foot a little higher. Harry reached out and untied the black ribbon. He offered a stray bit of bacon to the owl and watched as the owl flew away.

"Looks like your family's written to you." Terry said as he spooned more eggs onto his plate.

"My family wouldn't write to me." Harry told Terry shortly as he inspected the address. _Mr. Harry Potter, Ravenclaw Table, Hogwarts._ He noticed an ornate seal with an "M" in the middle surrounded by heraldic symbols Harry knew he would have to look up later. He broke the seal and pulled out rather thick parchment.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_Please allow me to congratulate you on making Ravenclaw House at Hogwarts. I am sure that you will be a credit to both Ravenclaw and Hogwarts in the years to come. Please do not hesitate to contact me if you should ever need an adult wizard who is not a teacher. I shall be happy to assist you._

_Sincerely,_

_Lucius Malfoy_

Harry stared at the letter in shock. Lucius Malfoy, writing to congratulate him on making a House in Hogwarts. The phrase _in loco parentis_ came back to Harry's mind. Malfoy had muttered that phrase to himself when he had offered to accompany Harry during his shopping trip. In place of the parents? Did Lucius Malfoy actually feel that he had some kind of parental duty towards Harry? That would be bad.

Flitwick came over and handed out their time tables as Harry slid the letter away. Harry glanced at his time table and nearly groaned. Potions was first thing on Monday mornings with the Hufflepuffs. _Great. Just fan-bloody-tastic. _

"Good morning, Harry." Draco Malfoy said from behind him. Harry turned and nodded to Draco.

"Good morning, Draco." Harry said calmly before he turned back to the table.

"Looks like you got your wish." Draco dropped onto the bench next to him and smirked. "I bet your father is rolling in his grave."

"I like to think that my father would be proud of me, regardless of what House I am in." Harry said calmly. "Besides, I don't really care what he would think. He's dead. I'm not." Harry had put away any emotional feelings about his parents. It was pointless to live up to imagined parental standards. His short time with Sirius had taught him that. His teacher had reinforced it. He was Harry and he could not be anything else.

"Easy, Harry. It was just a joke." Draco said. "Have you written to your relatives yet to tell them the good news?" Draco asked.

"No." Harry said before pouring a glass of water. He found the pumpkin juice just a little too sweet.

"Why not?" Draco asked. Harry could not figure out why Draco was sitting at the table with him.

"Aren't you supposed to be receiving your time table?" Harry asked.

"Professor Snape gave them out first thing this morning in the Common Room." Draco waved his schedule in front of Harry's eyes. "I'm stopping by the Owlery after breakfast. We could go together so you can send your relatives a letter."

"I can't. I don't have my Potions textbook with me. I need to go back to the dorm to get it." Harry stood and shouldered his bag. "Good day, Draco."

Harry ducked out of the Great Hall and started down to the dungeons. He was surprised by how much it _hurt_ to be here. The kids he was seeing now had died in his time. Some of them died by Voldemort's hands, others by Death Eaters. All had died needlessly. Harry took a deep breath and locked the emotions away. He was going into Snape's classroom. He would need his Occlumency at full strength.

He leaned against the wall next to the Potions classroom. He opened _Magical Drafts and Potions_ and started to read the chapter on healing potions again. The door opened five minutes later and Harry walked in to choose a seat in the middle. Professor Snape ignored him. He was busy with some parchment at his desk. Harry returned to his book and tuned out the rest of the world until he felt someone nudge him. He looked up and saw Terry Boot. "Mind if we partner up?" Terry asked.

"Don't mind at all." Harry said as he shut his book. Terry settled next to him and pulled out his book, parchment, quill, and cauldron. Harry followed suit and waited expectantly.

Snape started the class by calling roll. A few students whispered at Harry's name and the glare Snape shot them looked strong enough to cast the Killing Curse. "You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses….I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death – if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Harry noticed that the speech was the same, but it sounded different. Maybe because he was older? He was surprised when Snape continued. "Potions can be a highly rewarding subject for those who are patient and are not afraid of a bit of hard work," he gestured towards the Hufflepuff side of the classroom "or for those who enjoy learning." He raised an eyebrow towards the Ravenclaws. "Who can tell me what I would get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry was amazed to see at least four hands shoot up at once. His own followed at a more leisurely pace. "Turpin?"

"Draught of Living Death, professor." Lisa Turpin answered calmly.

"Yes." Snape affirmed. "Where would I find a bezoar?"

Both Harry and Terry's hands went into the air, followed by most of the classroom.

"Potter," Snape pointed to Harry.

"The stomach of a goat, sir." Harry answered.

Snape raised an eyebrow and focused all of his attention on Harry. "Yes. What, Potter, is a bezoar?" Uh-oh. A question just for Harry.

"It's a stone, sir, capable of counteracting most poisons." Harry could never forget the bezoar; it had saved Ron's life, as well as Harry's own.

"Correct." Snape said, returning his attention to the entire class. "What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?" Most of the class raised their hands. "Abbott."

"They're the same plant, sir." She answered.

"Yes, they are the same plant. Does anyone know another name for it?" Snape asked, looking around. Harry raised his hand, fully expecting others to follow him. He was surprised to find that he was the _only one._ "Potter?"

"It's also called aconite, sir." Harry said. _So much for not drawing attention to yourself._

"Correct." Snape's expression had changed somewhat. _Oh, no. Here it comes._ "Potter, name a potion that uses hellebore."

"Draught of Peace, sir." Harry answered.

"Yes. What potion changes your appearance for an hour?"

"Polyjuice potion." Harry answered. Oops. That was too advanced for first year. _So's the Draught of Peace, moron. Stop answering now!_

"Yes. What potion uses dried nettles, snake fangs, and porcupine quills?" Snape asked.

"It would depend on what order the ingredients are added, sir. If porcupine quills are the last ingredient added, then it's a potion to cure boils. If the porcupine quills are fist, then it cures acne." Harry knew he had said a little too much when Terry made a shocked noise next to him as he started scribbling what Harry had said.

"You've been reading a bit ahead, Potter." Snape said. He waved his wand at the board and the day's potion appeared. The boil-cure. "You are, however, correct." He looked around at the class. "Get started." He said shortly as he proceeded to stalk around the classroom.

"How did you know that?" Terry asked as he lit his cauldron. _Oh hell. Why couldn't I have just kept my mouth shut? _

"I read a lot." There. _That seemed like a plausible answer. Now redirect the student's attention so that he will drop the subject_. "I'll weigh the nettles if you crush the snake fangs."

"Okay." Terry said. "Later, though, I want your reading list." Terry told Harry in a tone that would not invite argument.

"I'll think about it." Harry responded. He and Terry stopped talking after that and worked on their potion. Harry found the atmosphere in this class, compared to Slytherin and Gryffindor classes, was a bit more relaxed. The students seemed more focused and even Snape was different, less acerbic than Harry remembered. He corrected with the same scathing tone, but it was less harmful…that, or Harry's perspective was a bit skewed. He wasn't sure which.

Harry allowed his mind to wander as he went through the motions of the potion. He could make this one in his sleep, considering he used to whip up batches of Veritaserum and Wolfsbane with Snape just a little over five months ago to his mind. Snape hadn't been nice, but he hadn't been too nasty. He did tell Harry to start using his brains, however few he had. Harry wasn't sure whether those comments were compliments or insults. He had not wanted to ask for clarification.

Harry noticed the mistake Terry was about to make and his hand shot out to stop him. "Take the cauldron off the fire before you add those." Harry told him, eyeing the porcupine quills that Terry was holding. "They don't react well with heat sources around." He added as explanation.

Terry stared at Harry. His eyes shifted up to the board and he said something under his breath that sounded like a swear word. Harry didn't comment. "Thanks, mate. That could have been messy." He said as he removed the cauldron from the flame.

"No problem." Harry knew that he would have been elected to take Terry to the hospital wing. While he did like Madame Pomfrey, he had no desire to see the hospital wing this early in the year. Or at all. Too many memories there, especially of things that happened after Hogwarts had turned into central command and before the castle fell. Too many of Harry's friends died an adult's death in the place they had visited for childhood scrapes and bruises.

He and Terry cleaned up their cauldron an hour later and started to leave. "Potter." Snape said sharply. "Stay behind." Harry closed his eyes and gave a silent sigh.

"I'll see you later, Terry." Harry told him. Terry nodded and left the room.

"Shut the door, Potter." Harry shut the door and turned back to Snape. "Puffer-fish parts." _Um, what? _Snape raised an eyebrow at Harry. Harry felt his jaw beginning to drop. _He's quizzing me! That snarky git is quizzing me on the first day of school! Okay, so it's not my first day, but…_

"Swelling solution, sir." Harry answered.

"Yes. Caterpillars and daisy roots." Snape said with a smirk.

_I know this. _Harry almost smiled. "Shrinking solution." Trust Snape to choose almost exact opposites in purpose. Harry's teacher had done the same thing often enough to try to confuse Harry. He succeeded until Harry had figured it out. Opposites had turned out to be a rather good study aid. Harry could always name the other if he had the one.

"Armadillo bile." Snape said.

Harry couldn't help the disgusted face he made at Snape's latest ingredient. "Ugh." He almost gagged. There were just some things Harry refused out of principle. Bile was one of them. "Wit-Sharpening Potion."

"Lovage?" Snape asked as he started looking through parchment. Harry rolled his eyes and wanted to tell Snape that he could leave if the man had better things to do. He figured that wouldn't go over well.

"Confusing and Befuddlement draughts." Harry answered.

"Elixir of Life?" Snape said as he started writing something on the parchment. Harry tried not to pout at this apparent disinterest. He knew that Snape was aware of everything that was going on, but Harry figured that any eleven year old would feel put out by this and he was just a little annoyed. He could be studying. Or exercising. Or something else interesting.

"The Elixir of Life is made from the Philosopher's Stone. It grants the drinker immortality, but it must be taken regularly for continued life. It can also change things into gold." Harry figured he would get the next question wrong. He had displayed knowledge and a care for the subject. That should be enough to keep Snape off his back for the moment. Harry looked down at his feet for a second and then back up at Snape when the man asked his next question.

"Jabberknoll feathers." Snape had leaned forward and was staring at Harry. Harry felt a brush of Legillmency and fought back a sigh. He reached up a hand and massaged his forehead. He would have to convince both Snape and Dumbledore that his shields were permanent and they wouldn't reach his mind. How to do that was another matter.

"Some kind of serum." Harry said slowly. "I think."

"They are commonly used in truth serums." Snape said calmly. "Now, rat tails and horned toads?"

_Oh, for…_Why was Snape still quizzing him? "Hair Raising Potion, sir." Harry sighed. There was no way that he would get that one wrong. It was too easy.

Snape looked Harry over before nodding to himself. "I expect the same level of performance you have shown today throughout your time here at Hogwarts, Mr. Potter." Snape said, waving Harry away.

"Yes, sir." Harry said, relieved that Snape was finally dismissing him. He went down the hall and up the stairs to the library. He would do his homework before lunch. There was one good thing about this whole coming back in time thing. He did not get lost his first day at Hogwarts.

* * *

Author's Note: Well, that's it for now, gang! Please let me know what you think. 


	6. Troll!

Author's Note: You lucky people! Two updates at the same time! I think this might spoil you...nah! Enjoy all.

* * *

Harry turned another page in his Potions book and ran his finger down the page. He was hunting for an ingredient and he couldn't quite remember what soothed cuts and scrapes. Was it moonstone? No. _Aha. I knew it. Murtlap essence. Thank you, old Hermione._ He wrote down his answer and finished the essay. He had taken to keeping his friends separate by referring to them as "old" and "new". It worked well, considering that he had a bit of difficulty keeping the old Draco separate from the new, annoying, and ever-present-to-drag-Harry-from-the-library Draco. Harry checked the time and swore under his breath, earning a bit of a glare from Madame Pince. The library was deserted today. It was Halloween and every student (even Hermione) had abandoned the library in favor of their dormitories and the Great Hall. Harry, however, had a lesson with Professor Snape.

That was the largest and most disturbing change in this new life. Snape had changed. He did not treat Harry the way he had the first time around. He had mostly ignored Harry, though he did treat Harry the same as the other students in his Ravenclaw/Hufflepuff class. Indifferent. While that would have been fine for Harry before coming back to his eleven year old self, he needed to be close to Snape. Snape was the key to everything that would happen later on. Snape had been deeply involved in everything that Harry had done in the past/future. Now he needed to gain Snape's trust and keep it. Harry had figured out that he could gain Snape's trust through the man's profession. After all, Harry had at least ten years of potions knowledge stuffed into his head, as well as any number of books. Enough to make him appear a bit of a prodigy. It was enough to catch the suspicion and attention of the Potions Master. Harry had approached the man after class one day and asked a few advanced questions. He acted frustrated when Snape had said that Harry was not yet ready to brew such things in class. Harry then asked if it was possible to receive independent instruction. Snape had been intrigued enough to agree to lessons outside the classroom.

Harry could not believe that Halloween was already here. He had spent a lot of time reading books in the library and the Room of Requirement. He still didn't sleep as much as he should. Dreamless Sleep was habit-forming, and Harry knew that his slight liking for the potion and its effects could easily turn into a full-blown addiction if he wasn't careful. _You will master your mind and your body._ He kept his teacher's mantra close to his thoughts. He would not be ruled by a dependence on any substance not needed for continued life. He was used to running without sleep for a few days at a time. A few hours of sleep a night was more than he was used to. He only hoped Pomfrey didn't find out.

Draco Malfoy had kept his word to his father. He had appeared in the library one Saturday afternoon and dragged Harry to the dungeons. Draco had pushed him along until they came to a rather large classroom he had not seen before. There were various charts and graphs displayed on the wall. He recognized a few of them as family trees. The Slytherin only smirked and said that they were there for etiquette lessons when Harry had threatened to curse him until he received an answer. Draco had pulled him into a seat and Harry noticed that more than just Slytherins had appeared for these lessons. Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs appeared as the room started to come alive with excited student voices. Harry had asked about the Gryffindors and Draco said that McGonagall felt that her students were already "knowledgeable" about the proper way of things. Harry had to snort. He vividly recalled McGonagall telling him about the Triwizard champions needing to open the Yule Ball. She had sounded a little surprised that he hadn't already known about it. Professor Snape had entered then and the classes started with proper posture. Harry hadn't slouched since.

The dungeons were deserted as Harry went to the Potions classroom. Snape was already there and setting up some equipment. "Good afternoon, Professor." Harry said as he entered. "The essay you wanted." Harry said as he deposited the roll of parchment on the desk. Snape merely grunted and motioned Harry over to him.

"Do you remember when we talked about potions that are capable of protecting the drinker from the elements, Potter?" Snape asked as Harry removed his heavy outer robes and pulled on a work apron. Harry thought for a few seconds before nodding. "Today we are brewing a potion that will enable the drinker to walk through fire, without harm, for a short time." Snape told him as he motioned to the ingredients already laid out.

Harry studied the ingredients and moved to his satchel to pull out the small composition book he used as a Potions notebook. He moved back to the table and named the ingredients as he wrote them down. Snape nodded at each if Harry was right in his identification.

"Now, knowing the ingredients you have, what will you have to watch for while brewing?" Snape asked slowly as he pulled on his own apron and spelled his hair to stay in place.

Harry turned back to the ingredients and frowned. What would happen if he mixed any of those ingredients in the wrong order? He paused in his thoughts. Why was Snape just brewing this now? Shouldn't the Stone already be protected? "The Stone's not safe." Harry said to himself. _Oh well. Snape knows how to protect the Stone. He did it before. Stop thinking about it and answer the question._ "The asphodel and fluxweed will react if either is added at a time when the temperature is changing. A fluctuating temperature will create an explosion, since asphodel and fluxweed are both unstable once added to any solution, even a base." Harry answered, glad he had read up on Potions theory yet again. He turned to see Snape staring at him. "Did I say something wrong, sir?" He asked in confusion.

"What did you mean by 'The stone's not safe'?" Snape asked with a hint of anger. _Oops. Did I say that aloud? Not good. Think, Potter, think!_

"Huh?" Harry said as he stalled for time. _Good answer, genius. Let's make him think you're clueless._ Harry scrunched his forehead in thought. "I'm not sure I understand you, sir." Harry elaborated. "I only answered the question you asked me." Harry had just had a brilliant idea. He was surprised by it and wondered why he hadn't thought of it before. He could be a 'seer' whenever he slipped up. Few people would mess with a seer and fewer would question it once Harry had established that as a part of his persona.

"Did you, or did you not, say 'the stone's not safe'?" Snape questioned him further.

"I didn't say anything like that." Harry said calmly. "I just answered the question, sir. I did get it right?"

"Yes, that's fine." Snape said. _Wow, confuse him and he compliments you._ "You honestly do not remember saying something like that?" Snape asked again.

"No, sir." Harry paused. Time to make the man feel a little saner. "Did you hear me say that?" He asked.

"I could have sworn you did, Potter!" Snape snapped. _Uh-oh. Snape's a little grumpy._

"You may have." Harry told him. "My aunt tells me that I say odd things all the time that I don't remember. She calls it my "most annoying" trait." Harry said as he made some notes in his notebook.

"You say things you don't remember?" Snape asked.

"I'm just telling you what my aunt told me." Harry answered. "I don't remember things like that." Harry shrugged and returned to his notes. He ignored Snape as he wrote down the instructions the man slid in front of him. Harry went to the cauldron and started the instructions.

"Can I trust you not to blow up the cauldron?" Snape asked sharply.

"For the next six steps or so." Harry told him. "I might need help with the fluxweed." Harry warned his teacher. Fluxweed could be extremely dangerous. He was surprised Snape trusted him with it.

"I will be right back." Snape said as he left the classroom. Harry had a feeling that Snape was calling the Headmaster. He left Snape to it. He had a potion to make.

Snape returned not even two minutes later to observe Harry. Harry added the second ingredient and almost jumped as Snape reached out and wrapped his hand around Harry's on the stir stick. "The instructions say six clockwise stirs. Add two counterclockwise stirs after the six." Snape said as he moved the stirring stick counterclockwise. "Do you know why?" he asked.

Harry narrowed his eyes as he thought. It was an obvious answer. It had to be. Snape wouldn't question him at this level without thinking that Harry knew something about it. "Something to do with surface area?" Harry answered.

"I'm assuming that that is not a question. You are correct." Snape said as he started listing things Harry should notice about this particular potion. Harry took careful notes in between adding ingredients and stirring. Harry bottled a small sample with an intense feeling of satisfaction. He had always wondered about this potion.

"Is the color significant, sir?" He asked.

"Yes. The colors of this potion match the color of flames from which the drinker is protected." Snape told him. "I'm sure you won't want to miss the Halloween Feast, and goodness knows what the Headmaster will say if I miss it." Snape said as he banished the cauldron to the sink. "Ready?" He asked as he hung his apron on its customary hook.

"Yes, sir." Harry said as he mimicked Snape and followed the man out the door. "I only hope the troll doesn't ruin it." Harry said idly.

Snape stopped him and looked at him. "What was that?" He asked.

"I only said 'yes, sir'." Harry told him. "Did I say something again?" Harry asked.

"Yes. Something about a troll." Snape told him.

"A troll? I've read about them. They're supposed to be large and smelly with very few brains. Is that true, sir?" Harry allowed his Ravenclaw chatter to fill the silence on their way to the Great Hall.

"Cease and desist, Mr. Potter." Snape said as the ascended the last staircase. "Go join your friends." Snape said as he swept into the Great Hall. Harry paused outside the door and wondered if Snape knew he didn't have any friends.

Harry did spend time with his old friends, but they were more like acquaintances than friends. He saw Hermione on a regular basis in the library. She had introduced him to several people in the Gryffindor House. Neville Longbottom had stuttered at him. Dean and Seamus had greeted him, asked a few curious questions, and then left Harry to his books. Ron was different. He seemed struck dumb whenever he was around Harry. It reminded Harry of how he had reacted around Hermione before, only this was much worse. The look of adoration Ron had shown disgusted Harry. His stomach churned at the thought of Ron Weasley in Colin Creevy mode and he had to wonder why Ron was not showing more of the Weasley backbone for which the Weasleys were known. He was treating Harry as a famous person and Harry couldn't stand it. He would have to do something about that soon.

Terry Boot made a fine partner in almost all of Harry's classes. He offered information only in small parts and didn't take over any projects. Harry liked this balanced student and often partnered with him as a matter of personal preference over anyone else. Terry was quiet and thoughtful, but could also joke enough to coax a smile out of Harry. The other students in Ravenclaw described Harry Potter as "quiet and studious" when their parents asked in letters. Harry couldn't hope for anything better. His persona was well on its way to being established.

Draco Malfoy was another story. Harry had only two people in the whole of Hogwarts he could count on to treat him normally. Snape and Malfoy. Draco Malfoy was different, so long as he was not around anyone else besides Harry. When they were alone, he was a carefree eleven year old with a penchant for badgering Harry into a game of chess, a quick walk outside, or a few rounds of Exploding Snap. He slipped into "presentation" mode when others were around, but that was few and far between when he found Harry. Draco would drag him from the library for meals or social activities and Harry, much to his chagrin, often enjoyed those social activities, even with the Slytherins. They could, and often did, play dirty, but they gave his mind a challenge he had never had before. Except when he had dealt with Voldemort.

"There you are!" Harry turned to see Draco Malfoy beside him. "Let's go!" Harry fought back the urge to jump (crowds still tortured him) as Draco Malfoy grabbed one arm and dragged him into the Great Hall. Harry was forced to bypass the Ravenclaw table and join Draco at the Slytherin one. He greeted the people he knew and was relieved to see that Serry was on her toes down in the kitchens as a meal appeared before him. The Slytherins accepted this rather odd practice of having a meal delivered on a plate without a murmur. The Ravenclaws had investigated the meaning behind it until Harry told them he was on a special diet for nutritional reasons. That stopped all speculation and left him in peace at mealtimes.

Harry fended off Draco's offers and demands about sweets and enjoyed Serry's cooking. He hadn't known that a rice dish like this was possible. He wondered if she would be willing to part with the recipe. He would love to make this for himself sometime this summer. He was the only student not surprised to hear Quirrell shout "Troll!" as he burst into the Hall. Harry did a quick scan of the Gryffindor table and said something that made Pansy Parkinson gasp. Hermione Granger was missing.

* * *

Harry slipped away from the group of Ravenclaws and headed directly for the girls bathroom. He had questioned the Gryffindor girls as to Hermione's disappearance and found out that history had repeated itself. He hated history. He dashed through the halls and hoped that he would get to her and get her out of the bathroom before the troll found them.

He skidded through the door. "Hermione!" Harry shouted. He heard a stifled sob from one of the stalls. "There's a troll on the loose!" He said hurriedly. Hermione poked her head out from one of the stalls and stared at him.

"What?" She demanded as she left her sanctuary.

"There's a troll on the loose. We've got to get back to the dorms." He told her as he grabbed hold of her arm and started to drag her from the bathroom.

"A troll?" She asked as they left the room and went down the hall at a run.

"Yes. They're huge, they're smelly, and they have little brain power." He told her as they rounded the corner.

"Really?" She asked in an odd voice.

"Yes." He said. What was that noise?

"Good. Because there's one standing right there!" She screeched as the troll turned the corner at the other end of the hall. It lumbered down the hallway towards them.

"Run." Harry told her, pushing her back the way they had come. He pulled out his wand and thought of a few different spells he could try. He really wanted to avoid the troll at all costs, but it wouldn't hurt to have something ready. Just in case. A roar sounded behind him and something large and heavy hit the hallway. Stone tumbled from the ceiling around them. Harry continued pushing Hermione towards safety, only to have to snatch her backwards as a large arch fell from the ceiling and crashed onto the floor. Harry swore under his breath and pushed Hermione behind him as he turned to face the troll.

Harry waved his wand and sent an anti-gravity mist towards the troll. That confused the creature long enough to allow Harry to make a few adjustments in his plan. He had a feeling that the teachers were on their way to fight the troll. He needed this to be over quickly. Harry took a deep breath and cast a Blasting Curse at the irritating creature. The troll flew backwards about five feet (a mere step to a troll) and looked quite cross with Harry. Harry hadn't known that trolls could be cross. His next spell was the Confundus charm. The troll blinked his eyes and looked around in a dazed fashion, obviously forgetting that he had been chasing small things down the hallway. _Now finish him off._ Harry took a firm hold on his wand and pointed it straight at the troll. "_Reducto!"_ He grimaced at the sight. No more troll.

Harry's world suddenly tipped and he dropped to his knees. Okay, so he had used a bit more power than he should have. He cursed his small body yet again (sixth time that week) and fought to retain consciousness. He knew it was a losing battle. "Harry?" Hermione said as she knelt down next to him.

"I'm okay." He told her as he took a deep breath.

"Sure you are." She said sarcastically. "You're only on your knees and you can't see straight. Your breathing sounds a bit labored." She said as she pushed him back to lean against the wall.

"I'm fine." He insisted. He looked up as a shocked noise came from McGonagall. Snape and Quirrell rounded the corner just behind her. Harry clutched his wand and decided that now was not the time to reveal Quirrell. Instead, he looked at Snape for a moment. "The troll found me." He said. McGonagall had bent down to look Harry in the eye. She was obviously telling him off, but he couldn't hear her. In fact, there was a strange ringing in his ears. His vision shifted into a short tunnel before it faded away into nothing and he fell away from the supporting wall.

* * *

Author's Note: There you all go. Please let me know what you think. 


	7. Forced Vacation

Author's Note: And moving right along to Christmas

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Harry allowed his parchment to roll shut and sighed. He had not thought this decision through when he made it. He hadn't known that going through school again would be so…boring. He found himself remembering more things day by day he had forgotten he knew. Studying in the library gave him access to some extremely advanced books, though getting permission for the Restricted Section was difficult. His education halted and stuttered in certain areas due to the school's policies surrounding the more dark materials. It was annoying, looking eleven and being much older than that.

He let his head fall into the space his parchment had just left and gave a silent groan. It was the last day of fall term and he thanked every power there was that he would finally have some peace and quiet away from children. And professors. And suspicious school nurses.

Hermione had nearly throttled him when he first appeared in the library after the troll incident. She had babbled, yes, babbled to him about how wonderful he was, how brave he could be, and _where_ did he learn those spells? Harry had laughed a bit and told Hermione it was nothing, that she would have done the same thing, and the library, in that order. She had spent almost every day since then scouring the library looking for the incantations. She had said goodbye and "Happy Christmas" this morning in the Great Hall. She was headed home for Christmas. He would miss his odd little friend, but he was more than happy to have some time to himself.

Snape had cornered him after Potions class the day after Harry had been released from the Hospital Wing. What followed was an interrogation, not about a troll, but about the nightmare Harry had had in the hospital wing. Harry had forgotten that Snape had been in the hospital wing when Harry had thrown himself off the bed in an effort to wake up. It wasn't fair. He had one nightmare and Snape turned suspicious about what Harry saw at night. He didn't think that admitting he saw various degrees of torture being used on his own person, or on his friends in front of him, would go over well at all with the Potions Master. Harry said he couldn't really explain and that his aunt called them "night terrors", his second most annoying trait. Snape hadn't accepted that, but he had dismissed Harry with a firm reminder to finish reading the chapters assigned to him and that their private sessions would continue the following day.

Harry was actually excited to stay this Christmas holiday. Snape was allowing him access to the student labs during certain hours of the day, when Snape could be present to watch him. The potions master had not been happy with his student after the troll incident, but he did mention that Harry had "some talent" and he refused to see that talent "misdirected". Harry was also thrilled to have the entire library to himself. He had a feeling that no one would be in there, especially since there was no great mystery of the Philosopher's Stone to cause anyone else to appear. _Mine. All mine._ He thought to himself. He now understood old Hermione's and new Hermione's love of books. There were endless bounds to the knowledge he could obtain…if he could just get a pass to the Restricted Section.

Pomfrey had been another story. She had managed to do a full medical scan while he was unconscious and had found out a few things. She had asked him straight out about abuse. His "numerous" injuries from his childhood and his "obvious" signs of former malnutrition pointed to what she called "signs of abuse" and she had told him he wasn't leaving her hospital wing until he told her who was hurting him in such a way. Harry had given her a blank stare and asked what in the world she was talking about. She hadn't made it easy, but she did eventually release Harry, with orders to return once a week for "monitoring", so that she could see if he was making progress. He had to put on a full two stones before Easter or Madame Pomfrey would confine him to the hospital wing until he reached the desired weight. He was taking the threat seriously. He knew Madame Pomfrey ruled supreme when it came to the health of her patients.

Harry had approached Serry about it and she said it was entirely possible, starting at that very moment. She had increased Harry's meal sizes and sent Harry snacks at regular intervals throughout the day. He had found that she knew exactly where he was at all times. Several small plates of snacks had appeared in the library, out by the lake, or in the Ravenclaw dormitory. Harry had had everything from popcorn to fruit salad pop up in front of him, even in the Slytherin common room! That had actually been funny, as Serry had treated the group Harry was with to some not-so-healthy snacks as well. Harry had his favorite of raw vegetables and peanut butter. The plate for the raw vegetables had disappeared, but the leftover peanut butter had remained along with a spoon and milk. The small bowl did not disappear until Harry had eaten all of the peanut butter. The Slytherins had laughed at the situation and now often commented about how stubborn dishware could be when Harry joined them.

Harry allowed his head to rest on the table in front of him. He was exhausted from his lack of sleep. His body was used to it, true, but that didn't mean he didn't like sleeping a full eight hours! Using Dreamless Sleep was almost like a tease. He found himself waking up after a few hours of deep sleep and his body always craved more. It wasn't fair. He knew that, but he would endure. He had mastery over himself. He could do this. It wasn't that hard.

Except that it was hard. It was very hard. He had become accustomed to seeing people he thought were dead showing up here and there. He was inured to the various challenges of keeping his past separated from the present. He didn't know how he had managed it thus far. He did not jump at loud noises much anymore, unless they were extremely unexpected, like an entire bookcase exploding in the library. His sleeping patterns were unchanged. He still did not sleep enough to satisfy his body's craving for it, although he did find it enough to get by for a few days. Crowds still bothered him. He had nearly injured a lot of students when they had flooded the hallways and caught him unawares. It was that feeling of no escape that got him. He knew he wouldn't be able to get away if they wanted to restrain him.

That was how the Death Eaters had gotten him. He had been fighting them off in Grimmauld Place, doing quite well against them, when a large group just surrounded him. He hadn't stopped to count. There were too many of them for him to fend them all off and his wand turned useless as they crowded him. He had been taught to fight in close quarters with up to five opponents, but he had never found himself in a situation in which he could not move his arms. They crushed him against the wall and held him there until he wore himself out from struggling. It took over three hours of constant fighting, but they eventually wrestled his wand away from him and pinned him to the ground. He was too exhausted to breathe, much less fight to get away.

He had a slight opportunity to run and he took it, finding the energy from somewhere as he pushed through his captors and pelted down the staircase. He jumped the last few stairs, a move he had accomplished hundreds of times before, but stumbled and fell at the bottom. Death Eaters appeared from behind him and piled on top of him. He fought for as long as he could until he could barely keep his eyes open. He was struggling to breathe when Voldemort appeared. All he could remember was that his ears were ringing and he had tunnel vision, much like the time when he had been bitten by the Basilisk. He only figured out later that he had nearly died pinned beneath all those Death Eaters. Voldemort motioned to the Death Eaters to stand and smiled when they revealed their prize to Voldemort. "Ah, the Boy Who Lived." Voldemort had said with a vague hiss in his voice. "Finally brought down to where he belongs." Voldemort had carted Harry out of Grimmauld Place without a single curse or hex on Harry. He had just let Voldemort take him.

Harry jerked as he fought away the memory. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He _hated_ when he remembered things during the day. It was bad enough at night when he fought his way awake and laid there in bed, shaking and stammering to himself. He had used silencing charms on his bed from the first night. He would have been discovered as an insomniac long before the Christmas holiday if he hadn't used the charms. Harry wiped a hand across his forehead and noticed that he had managed to break out in a cold sweat. _Pathetic. You are truly pathetic, Potter. It's a memory. Nothing more. Stop letting it affect you!_ He sighed and stood up. He took another deep breath and fought off a shudder as he went over to the window. The Hogwarts express had left some time ago and it was growing dim outside. He leaned his head against the cool glass and tried to banish his memories. _Lock it away. Don't think about it. It won't happen again. That's what you've come back to fix._

Tears slipped from his eyes as he tried to control his breathing. He didn't know it was going to be this hard! Why hadn't he chosen his first instinct? He could be in the afterlife now, spending time with his parents, joking around with his friends, and just enjoying not having to worry about the Dark Lord. No, he had to do the _hard_ thing. The _noble_ thing. The _right_ thing. He snorted. _Brilliant move there, Potter._ He told himself as he slipped to his knees and shuddered. He wrapped his arms around himself and rocked back and forth. "Ignore it. It can't affect you. You can do this. It won't happen again. You're better now. You know what to expect." Harry told himself as he fought away the tears. "You can do this." He reassured himself. He could do this. "I can do this." He affirmed the tomes in the shelves that surrounded him. "I can do it."

He wiped his face with the inside of his sleeve and grimaced. _Note to self: get handkerchiefs._ He may look like a first year, but that didn't mean he had to have the grooming skills of one. He stood and rested his forehead on the cool glass. It felt wonderful to him, almost like that first taste of water after an intense workout. He let the glass soothe him and sighed. He could do this. He just had to be careful to let out his feelings in more private surroundings more often. This little episode would have had his teacher shaking his head in disappointment.

"Mr. Potter?" He whirled to face the voice behind him. His wand was in his hand faster than even he expected. He was astonished to find that he was pointing his wand at Albus Dumbledore. "Nice reflexes." Dumbledore complimented.

"I'm sorry, Headmaster. You startled me." Harry looked down to put his wand in his sleeve and raised his Occlumency shields to their full strength. He had just had an emotional breakdown and he didn't want anyone, much less the Headmaster of Hogwarts, to know about it.

"Quite alright, my boy." Dumbledore said as he dug into his pocket and produced a box of Every Flavor beans. "Jelly bean?" Dumbledore offered Harry.

"No, thank you." Harry answered honestly. He couldn't stand sweets.

"I just received a frantic firecall." Dumbledore confided to Harry. Harry gave him a confused look. "From a Mr. Lucius Malfoy." Dumbledore popped another bean in his mouth. "It appears he was expecting two first year students and only found one." Dumbledore explained.

Harry felt a bit of color leave his face. Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy had invited him for Christmas, but Harry felt that staying at Malfoy Manor would just be a bad idea all around. Lucius Malfoy had been Voldemort's right hand man and more than happy to torture Harry. There was no way Harry was going to allow himself to be placed into a dangerous situation. "He did send me an invitation for Christmas, but I decided not to go." Harry told Dumbledore.

"He was expecting you." Dumbledore told Harry as he ate another bean. "He appeared quite upset, if Malfoys can manage to feel upset." Dumbledore said with a twinkle. "He and I both agree that you've been studying too hard."

"I don't really have plans to study this holiday, Headmaster." Harry told him.

"Now, Mr. Potter, I may be old, but do not take me for a fool." Dumbledore said with humor in his voice. "Professor Snape has already showed me the study plans you've drawn up for yourself, as well as your proposal for several potions. Professor McGonagall has mentioned that you not only manage every spell the first class in which it is introduced, but that you also tutor students during class time if they are having trouble. Your Head of House has told me of your amazing progress in his class and even Professor Quirrell agrees that you know quite a bit for someone your age and your abilities are enough to recommend you to further studies when you are older." Harry had to wonder where this long list was leading. "As such, all of the teachers, save Professor Snape, have agreed that we must intervene." Harry felt his stomach drop just the slightest bit. "You must have a break from this castle, dear boy." Dumbledore told him. "I think going to the Malfoys for Christmas is just what you need. Your aunt has already given her permission and Mr. Malfoy has been waiting just outside the library for the past twenty minutes." Twenty minutes? Had he seen anything? Had he watched Harry break down? "You'll be able to see a real wizarding Christmas and how things are done. I know you've taken a special interest in things like that."

Dumbledore stood and packed all of Harry's books with a single wave of his wand. "Let's go meet Mr. Malfoy, shall we?" Dumbledore asked as he slung an arm around Harry's shoulders. Harry wrenched himself away from the Headmaster.

"I don't want to go to the Malfoys." Harry hissed. "I want to stay here like I planned." Harry told him. Was Dumbledore serious? Did he think that Harry wanted to go to a possible Death Eater's house for Christmas? Harry would never make it out alive!

"I'm sorry, my boy. Madame Pomfrey said that you must leave the castle for the holidays or she will admit you to St. Mungos for the duration so that you can rest." Dumbledore bent down so that he could look Harry in the eye. "You are not well, Mr. Potter. I fear you've been pushing yourself too hard." _No, that's my glamours not holding up…due to fatigue. I_ hate_ when they're right._ Something must have changed in Harry's face because Dumbledore's face changed from concerned to a smile. "Glad we agree." Dumbledore told him. "Come along now."

Harry followed his headmaster out of the library and wondered why the man was carrying his satchel. It was Harry's. He should be carrying it, not the Headmaster. Harry reached out to take it but Dumbledore stopped him. "Let me carry it, Harry." Dumbledore said softly with a strange look. Harry thought what it could mean and nearly turned red with embarrassment. He must truly look ragged if Dumbledore thought he couldn't handle carrying his own books. What in the world did he look like?

Mr. Malfoy turned and smiled down at Harry. "Hello again, Mr. Potter." He greeted Harry like an old friend. Harry turned and looked up at Dumbledore in the most entreating way he could. He really didn't want to go to Malfoy Manor, but it seemed that the fates were against him. "Your cloak, Mr. Potter." The pureblood presented the garment. Harry pulled it on and fastened it shut. He nodded his thanks to the Malfoy patriarch as he tied his scarf. Harry liked his Ravenclaw scarf and wore it every time he stepped outside, especially since the snow had started to fall. There was no way anyone could mistake Harry Potter for anything but a Ravenclaw.

"His book satchel." Dumbledore said as he handed it over to Mr. Malfoy. "Have a good holiday, Mr. Potter." Dumbledore said as Malfoy motioned for Harry to follow him. Dumbledore had just handed over Harry Potter to the Malfoy family. Harry decided that senility was a very bad thing to have and made a mental note to convince Madame Pomfrey to inspect Professor Dumbledore for the signs. Harry figured that he had survived worse, but this was not going to be pleasant.

Harry followed Malfoy outside of the castle and down towards the gates. He had stayed silent while Malfoy talked about the different Christmas traditions he could expect to find at the Malfoy home. Draco was very excited to have one of his friends spend Christmas with him, and wait until the ball! "Ball?" Harry asked quickly.

"Yes, we have one every year." Mr. Malfoy said with a vague smile in Harry's direction. "It's always very entertaining." Harry shuddered. Malfoy had called him entertaining on more than one occasion. "Cold, Mr. Potter?" Mr. Malfoy flicked his wand at him and Harry felt a warming charm settle around him.

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy." Harry said. He was grateful for the warmth. Snow had fallen the night before and a few flakes were still making a descent towards the ground. Malfoy left the gates and stepped closer to Harry. Harry backed away.

"Have you heard of Apparition, Mr. Potter?" Malfoy asked patiently.

"Yes, sir. It's a method of travel." Harry answered. Malfoy wanted to Apparate with him?

"Good. I won't need to explain it to you. Have you heard of Side-Along Apparition?" Harry nodded at the question. Yes, he had heard of it. He had performed it far too many times with someone who was dying. _Back, thoughts, back!_ "That is what we are going to do. I need you to step closer to me." Mr. Malfoy motioned for Harry to come closer. Harry considered this. There was still time to call the Knight Bus and disappear in Knockturn Alley for the holiday. Dumbledore would never find him there and he could spend it in peace…until the Ministry pulled out all the stops looking for him. Ugh. Too much attention. He looked up at Malfoy for a few seconds and took a tentative step closer to the man. "A little closer." Who knew Malfoy could be this patient? He kept his manner very sedate as Harry weighed his options. Harry took another step. "Once more and then we can leave." Malfoy told him.

Harry knew Malfoy couldn't hurt him. Not _now._ He had hurt Harry before and he would most likely do so again in the future if Harry wasn't careful. Now, though, he had the protection of his fame and the reputation of the Malfoys's very public and respected name. The Malfoys couldn't harm the Boy Who Lived while he was in their home, especially without the Dark Lord to protect them. It just wasn't done. Harry swallowed and stepped closer to Malfoy. "Very good." Malfoy praised like Harry had just performed a trick. "Now I just put my arm around you," Harry shuddered again, "and you'll feel a sensation of being squeezed through a tube. Take a deep breath." Harry did as instructed and felt himself squeezed through a tube. It was a very apt description. He found himself standing in front of a grand house in the next instant.

He stumbled away from Malfoy and fought the shaking in which his body liked to indulge. "It can be rather disconcerting the first time." Mr. Malfoy said as he put an arm around Harry's shoulders. Harry fought the shudders and hoped Malfoy thought he was still cold. "Just take a few deep breaths. That odd feeling will pass." Malfoy guided Harry up to the house and inside. "Cloaks go in the cloak room here." Malfoy said as he ushered Harry into the room. "These hooks might suit your height more." Malfoy said as he pointed to some hooks that were nearer Harry's size. Harry hung his cloak and scarf up as directed and followed Mr. Malfoy to a sitting room the size of the Ravenclaw common room. There was one thing about the Malfoy house. It was large!

"Dobby!" Malfoy called out. The house elf appeared and bowed low. "Dobby. This is young Master Harry Potter." Harry noticed that the house elf was not introduced to him. Mr. Malfoy fished out a miniature trunk Harry recognized as his own and handed it and Harry's book satchel to Dobby. "Put his things in the guest room we prepared for him." Dobby took the tiny piece of luggage and disappeared. "Dobby is our house elf. Just call him if you need anything at all." Malfoy told Harry. "Draco should be down in just a few minutes."

"Thank you, sir." Harry said quietly. He looked around in silent wonder. The Malfoys had a beautiful house, and while it was not very homey, it was very majestic. It was little wonder Malfoy acted like a little prince when he was surrounded by all of this.

"You may sit down, Mr. Potter." Malfoy said to him as he took his own seat. Harry looked around and chose a chair that did not have a back to the door. The door opened just a few minutes later to reveal Narcissa Malfoy. Both Harry and Mr. Malfoy got to their feet when she entered. Those etiquette lessons were paying off.

"Mr. Potter!" Narcissa Malfoy sounded genuinely pleased to see Harry again. "Please forgive me for not being here to greet you on your arrival." She said as Harry bowed over her hand. He felt a little silly to do something like that, but she gave him a wider smile when he straightened up. "I'm so happy you could join us for the Christmas holidays."

"Thank you for having me, Mrs. Malfoy." Harry said politely. "It was kind of you to invite me." Harry told the woman as she motioned him back to his seat and she sat on one of her own.

"It is a delight to have you here. Besides, I'm sure Draco would not have forgiven me if we had not. He has been saying that you need a proper wizarding Christmas for quite some time." Narcissa Malfoy said as she patted Harry's hand. That felt…nice. Caring. _This is the Malfoys, Potter! Do not confuse the social graces for kindness!_

"Harry!" Harry looked up from Narcissa's explanation of what the different decorations meant and saw Draco standing in the doorway. "It's good to see you out of the library." Draco said as he came into the room. Harry stood to greet him as Professor Snape had drilled into their heads during etiquette lessons and shook Draco's hand.

"Yes, well. Professor Dumbledore said it would do me good." Harry told Draco in a low voice. _Forced to take a vacation. Good going, Potter._

"Dinner is served, Master and Mistress." Dobby said as he popped into the room and popped back out just as quickly. Harry followed his host into the dining room and thanked every deity he could think of that he had attended those etiquette classes. He would feel less out of place here, less self-conscience. Less…Muggle.

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"He looks horrible." Narcissa told her husband later that night after they had sent the boys to bed. "Drawn and exhausted." She elaborated.

"Yes. Dumbledore said as much. All of the teachers, well, except for Severus, say that he works too hard." Lucius leaned back into his chair and balanced his drink on his knee. "Dumbledore required an Unbreakable Vow from me before he would let me take the boy. Something about not harming him while he is in my care." Lucius told his wife.

"That is vague." Narcissa said as she looked up from her accounts with a frown.

"I know. I think he was just trying to reassure himself." Lucius raised one hand to his forehead and massaged the skin there. "That boy trembled every time I came anywhere close to him or touched him. It took almost five minutes to get him close enough to Apparate. The way he pulled away from me…" Lucius took a sip of his drink and sighed. "It's not normal, even for one raised as a Muggle."

"You said he was in the library when you went to pick him up?" Narcissa asked as she jotted down a figure.

"Yes. I could see him through the windows. He didn't see me at all. I don't think he is tall enough for the windows into the hallway." Malfoy explained. "He looked so lost, Nari. He cried and didn't look around for anyone to help him. He shook and he simply ignored it. Harry Potter rocked himself and hugged himself and looked so lost that it made me hurt inside. No child should look like that, Nari. Not even one who defeated the Dark Lord."

"You said he was crying?" Narcissa asked. "Do you know what caused it?" She wondered as she closed her books and sat next to her husband.

"No, not at all. He was just sitting at a table and staring into space one minute and in the next second he was shaking and crying. He's a very self-contained child." Lucius nearly dropped his glass when Dobby popped up in front of him, wringing his ears and crying in distress. "What is it?" Malfoy demanded of the elf.

"It's young Master Harry Potter, Master Malfoy. He be crying, but Dobby can't wake him and he won't wake up. Crying and screaming, sir, but Harry Potter doesn't wake up, sir."

Malfoy stared at his house for just a few seconds before he got to his feet and left the room, his wife close on his heels. The staircase disappeared in a matter of minutes and he found himself outside the boy's door. He opened it with a puzzled expression. He should be able to hear something now. He strode through the sitting room and into the bedroom to find everything just as Dobby said. Harry Potter was in his bed, crying and screaming, but not a sound could be heard. "Silencing spells." Malfoy said to himself as he went over to the bed. He reached down a hand and shook the boy's shoulder. The reaction was not what he was expecting.

Potter's eyes flew open the minute his shoulder was touched and Malfoy felt the silencing spells end almost immediately. The boy leapt from the bed to the other side and his wand was pointing straight at Malfoy without a waver. The eyes told Malfoy more than the actions. They showed pain at first, an almost overwhelming pain. That pain faded somewhat into a slight confusion and then into a more questioning stare before the eyes welled up with tears that the boy blinked away. "Mr. Potter, are you well?"

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Harry stared at the man in front of him, a spell ready on his lips. No one would blame him, would they, if he had felt threatened and slightly maimed or even killed the Malfoy patriarch? He was the Boy Who Lived. He could tell them that he heard Malfoy plotting to harm him and had made a preemptive strike against such a person. He could… "Mr. Potter, are you well?" ….do nothing at all. Harry shuddered and stared at him. "Do you know me, Mr. Potter?"

Harry nodded and looked around, acting like he was just "waking up". It looked like it was going to have to be the "night terror" story again. Dobby had taken _all_ of Harry's potions away from him, for children at the Manor were not allowed their own potions' collection. Harry had planned on sleeping tonight all along, but had had his usual nightmares and now the Malfoys knew. _Great. This is just great._

Narcissa Malfoy moved closer to him and reached out a light hand to lower his wand. She didn't take it from him which was a very good idea in Harry's opinion. He would have reacted violently to having his wand taken. "It's alright, Mr. Potter." She said softly as he stared up at her. "It was only a dream. Nothing here can hurt you." She told him with a gentle tone. She didn't miss when Harry's eyes shifted to her husband and then back to her. Interesting.

She moved slowly and Harry found himself in her arms before his brain registered her even getting close to him. He nearly dropped dead from surprise when she _picked him up._ True, he was short and he was smaller than anyone else in his year at Hogwarts, but this was a little embarrassing. He tried to squirm out of her embrace but only found himself in a more comfortable position as she perched on the side of his bed. He yawned and squirmed again. She only shushed him and held him firmly. "It's okay." She said in a soothing tone. "Just a dream."

Harry shuddered as he lowered his head against her shoulder. She didn't want to let him go and he hated being touched, but he was so very tired and her shoulder was right there. It was an odd situation. He discovered that he really didn't want to move now. Harry felt himself relax the tiniest bit and jumped when he felt her start rubbing his back. "Just go back to sleep." She told him kindly as she rocked him the slightest bit. Harry's eyes closed against his protests and he found himself growing lethargic. "Just relax." She said as he let everything go and allowed himself to slip further into sleep. He was vaguely aware of her standing, laying him down in the bed, drawing the covers over him, and brushing his hair out of his eyes. He did not hear or feel anything the rest of the night and woke up at dawn the next day to wonder how he had managed to sleep for six straight hours without a nightmare.

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Author's Note: Well, there's the next installment. I hope you all liked it. Don't forget the forums!


	8. Suspicions and Dancing

Author's Note: Here's the next chapter. Enjoy!

* * *

Harry thanked Dobby for the message and sighed. It appeared that Mr. Malfoy wished to see Harry in the man's private study. Harry tightened his Occlumency and cleared his mind, just in case. His teacher had always said to be prepared for anything. Harry felt that this counted. 

He walked down the hallway and up to the imposing door. He reached up a hand and knocked. The door swung open. "Come in, Mr. Potter." Mr. Malfoy said. Harry stepped into the room and looked around. The room itself was paneled in heavy woods that appeared to have darkened over time. The furniture looked functional and comfortable, unlike the formal sitting room with fluffy, useless pillows. A bright fire crackled in the grate and gave the room a pleasant smell.

Mr. Malfoy stepped out from behind a bookshelf. The sudden appearance of the man gave Harry a different impression of him. Harry could only see Mr. Malfoy in a heavy black robe with the door of Harry's 'room' behind him, instead of 'Mr. Malfoy, Draco's father'. Harry took an involuntary step back before reality asserted itself and he remembered where he was. Harry only hoped that Malfoy hadn't noticed. He looked up to find Malfoy giving him an odd look. _Damn it, he did notice._ "Please sit down, Mr. Potter." Mr. Malfoy said as he motioned Harry into the room.

Harry moved forward and chose a chair that allowed him to see the door and Malfoy. Mr. Malfoy took a seat across from Harry and relaxed into the chair. "May I offer you something to drink?" Malfoy asked.

_I have a feeling it will not contain alcohol._ Harry thought as he shook his head. "No, thank you." He answered. Verbal responses were the only acceptable ones in close proximity, according to Snape's etiquette classes.

"I was wondering if we could have a talk." Mr. Malfoy said calmly.

"Yes, sir." Harry answered. It was just easier to agree. Harry had a feeling the talking would be more of a question/answer session than an actual conversation.

"You gave us quite a scare last night.' Malfoy said slowly.

"Did you know you were going to have a nightmare last night?" Malfoy asked.

_Yes._ "No." Harry answered.

"Do you have nightmares often?" Malfoy continued.

_Every night. Sometimes more than once._ "No." Harry was already tired of being in this room. He was ready to leave. Now.

"What do your relatives do after you have a nightmare?" Malfoy asked. The question surprised Harry. Why would Malfoy want to know? Why did he care?

_Yell at me to shut up._ "Nothing." Harry said shortly. He could still hear his uncle shouting at him to be quiet, even though it had been months since he had seen the man. He could practically feel Vernon's breath on his face, the trembling rage he sometimes let out on his nephew.

"Nothing?" Malfoy demanded. The sharp tone made Harry jerk. He had forgotten where he was for a moment. He looked up at Malfoy and shook his head.

"Nothing, sir." Harry answered calmly. _Keep being polite and the man will let you leave. Just answer his questions and ignore everything else._

"I see." Malfoy conjured a glass of water and passed it to Harry. Harry reached out and took it. He grasped the glass lightly and hoped Malfoy couldn't see his hands shaking. Harry calmed himself and took a sip of water.

"What do you do after a nightmare?" Malfoy asked softly.

_Beg for my misery to end. Wonder at my stupid choices._ "Nothing, sir." Harry said again. It was becoming repetitive.

"Ah." Malfoy said thoughtfully. The man appeared to be thinking.

"May I go now, sir?" Harry asked quickly, trying to feign eagerness. "Draco mentioned something about your library."

Malfoy gave Harry an odd look. "You are here to _rest_, Mr. Potter. Please do not over do it." Mr. Malfoy looked Harry over, as though searching for signs of a plan to do just that.

"No, sir." Harry said. _Agreeing with him is fine, so long as it gets me out of here._

"Very well. Have fun with Draco, Mr. Potter." Mr. Malfoy said as he stood. "Do not study too much." Malfoy admonished him.

"Thank you, sir." Harry stood and forced himself to walk from the room. He would not run from Malfoy, not in this lifetime.

* * *

Mr. Malfoy poured out a glass of scotch and handed Snape's drink to him. "Thank you for coming, Severus." Mr. Malfoy said as he picked up his own drink and sat down. He rested his own glass on the arm of the chair and sighed.

Snape studied the Malfoy patriarch and wondered what could possibly trouble his old friend so much that he felt the need for whiskey and water…without the water. "It's no trouble, Lucius. I am wondering why you called me here early. What couldn't wait until the ball this evening?" Snape asked as he sipped on his scotch. The Malfoys always had excellent scotch. He would have been shocked to know that Lucius kept it stocked for his friend alone.

"That boy." Mr. Malfoy said in frustration.

"I know many boys, Lucius. I am a teacher. You'll have to be more specific. His name would help, for instance." Snape said dryly.

"The Potter boy." Malfoy snapped as he leaned his head back in his chair.

Snape tensed the slightest bit. "What of him?" He asked quietly. _You have an Unbreakable Vow on you, remember that, Lucius._

"Draco said that you spend a lot of time with Potter. Do you know anything about his nightmares?" Malfoy asked.

"I take it you witnessed one?" Snape said more than asked. "Startling, aren't they?" Snape asked as he nursed his drink.

"Startling?" Malfoy asked in surprise. "Disturbing is more apt, Severus. What do you know about them?"

"I know of no cause." Snape admitted. "I confronted the boy about them after his stay in the Hospital Wing. I've never seen such a violent reaction to a dream before." Snape admitted. "Not even my own." He paused for a second before moving on. "He said that his aunt calls them 'night terrors'. That's all I could learn from the boy." Snape hesitated to say anything further about Potter's reactions to the questions. He didn't want to give away any useful information.

"I wonder what their relationship is like." Malfoy said as he emptied his glass and set it aside.

"I don't know. I know very little actual information about Potter himself." Snape said. "Potter is a very private boy. He only cares for his books. He dislikes sweets, anything to do with physical exercise, and the usual childish amusements." That was what bothered Snape the most about the Potter boy. He was not a _boy_ in his activities. He appeared more as a young man. "Finding out anything from him about their relationship is likely to be skewed through his own experiences." Snape said.

Malfoy nodded in agreement. "He is not an ordinary child. He is extremely quiet. I often forget he is in the room." Mr. Malfoy admitted. "He reminds me of another boy I knew." Malfoy said in a calm voice. "A boy who loved the magic of Potions and devoured the Dark Arts." Malfoy gave a pointed look to Snape.

"Yes, I know." Snape said with a sigh. "It is disconcerting. I see James Potter when I think of him, but when I work with him, I notice something…_off_." Snape paused. "Something is not quite right with him."

"He flinches whenever I approach him. He shakes if I touch him." Mr. Malfoy admitted. "He had the same reaction with Narcissa, though she says it is decreasing the more contact she has with him. She put him back to bed after his nightmare last night."

"He allowed her to touch him?" Snape asked in surprise. Potter had reacted violently to Madame Pomfrey's touch when she tried to put him back to bed.

"'Touch him'?" Malfoy snorted. "The boy fell asleep in her arms." Malfoy said as he refilled their drinks, laughing just the slightest bit.

"Do you think that it's just men?" Severus asked. "Perhaps his uncle…"

Malfoy shook his head. "We do not have enough evidence. We cannot make any accusations yet."

"What we do have, though…"

"It's disturbing, Severus. He's a child. I've done some terrible, wonderful things. I admit that without a qualm. Most of them, I can even say I enjoyed, but to do that to one of our children…it makes me feel homicidal again."

Snape blinked at the speech. "I find it interesting to hear something like that about the 'Boy Who Lived'." Snape commented.

"'Boy' is the key word, Severus. Why would Harry Potter have anything to do with the Dark Lord's fall? His parents, however, I do hold responsible." Malfoy explained.

"You fault the parents?" Snape asked, slightly surprised. Most of the wizarding world seemed content to blame or commend the boy, not the parents. The fact that Lucius Malfoy thought differently from everyone else was slightly alarming.

"There had to be something they did to protect their child." Malfoy answered. "The Dark Lord may have become a little wand happy and tried to violate the ritual or what have you." Lucius shrugged. He didn't know what had happened that night.

"And if the situation had been reversed?" Snape asked. "If it had been Dumbledore after you and your family?" Snape tried to put it into the proper perspective.

"I would have done the same thing to protect the people I love and hold dear." Malfoy admitted. "Anyone who does what they did out of love should be respected…but I still hold them responsible, not the boy."

"Master Malfoy!" Dobby popped into the room. "It's Master Harry Potter again! He is crying and screaming and…" Malfoy didn't give his elf time to finish.

He leapt from his chair and started for the hallway, motioning for Snape to join him. "We sent the boys to rest earlier, so they could be up tonight for the ball." Malfoy explained to Snape. "It must be a nightmare." He opened the door to Harry's room and rushed in to stop at the sight of Harry thrashing on the bed.

"Mr. Potter." Malfoy said as he leaned over the bed. "Wake up, Mr. Potter." He reached down to shake the boy awake. Snape watched in shock as the boy lashed out, knocking the hand from his shoulder and rolling away from Lucius. "Mr. Potter, you were having another nightmare." Malfoy said calmly, waiting for the boy to regain full coherency.

"They're dead." Harry whispered to himself, still able to see the bodies of Fred and George Weasley in front of his eyes. "He killed them." Harry shook and fought to get a hold of himself. Voldemort would say something and Harry would have to respond. He had no choice. "I-I tried." He told himself, trying to prepare for trading insults with the Dark Lord. "I tried."

Snape watched the boy close himself off from his terror, but grimaced when he saw the mental pain translate into a physical manifestation of shaking and tears. He would guess this was an attack of some kind if he didn't know better. Snape dimly registered his friend sending the house elf for Narcissa. Lucius tried to get closer to the boy several times, only to find that Harry would inch away from him. Lucius stopped his attempts at comforting Harry and gestured for Snape to try.

Snape slowly walked over to the boy and knelt down, keeping his hands in view. "Potter." The boy jerked at his name, but turned his empty gaze towards his professor. Snape sent out a gentle mental touch and found the boy's shields were completely down. He probed a little deeper and saw two people on a stone floor with a vague sense of being restrained. He felt a tentative push to his mind and withdrew. There was no need for the boy to know his mind had been invaded. "Potter?"

Harry heard a familiar voice saying his name. He started to come back to himself and saw Professor Snape. It was a subtle reminder that he needed to raise his mental shields. Harry built up the shields gradually and looked at his professor. "Sir." He croaked out as he stepped forward. Snape had been his anchor more than once after a battle. They had a similar understanding that had surprised him at first and then became his sole comfort later. Snape understood what it was like to be…Harry.

Snape froze the boy's stance started to change. The lad was about to do…something. He watched as the boy stepped closer and reached out a hand towards him. Snape waited and felt a skeletal hand touch his shoulder. He felt the tiny bones fist themselves in his robes. He could feel the shaking through his clothing and wondered why the reaction seemed to be calming from the contact, rather than getting worse.

"He killed them." The boy whispered to him.

"No one has died, Potter." Snape said, reaching out to rest a hand on the boy's shoulder. The boy shook his head. "Look at me." Snape said shortly. Harry's eyes shifted to face Snape. "No one has died."

"Sir?" Harry said in surprise. _What is Snape doing here? More importantly, what did I say? 'No one has died'? _He looked around and prepared to die of mortification. He remembered his dream and how he lost himself, in front of Malfoy and Snape, of all people! He could practically taste their suspicion.

"Do you know us, Potter?" Snape said calmly as Harry pulled his hand away and took a few steps back from his teacher.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid. You are an imbecile, Potter!_ Harry told himself as he wondered how he was going to avoid their notions of what his dreams were about."Yes, Professor." Harry answered, rubbing at his face to help himself wake up. He wondered if he could rub straight through his skull to poke a hole in his brain. He could die that way, right? "I'm sorry to have disturbed you again, Mr. Malfoy. You as well, Professor." Harry said.

"It's nothing, Mr. Potter." Mr. Malfoy said. "I am more worried about you." He admitted as the door flew open to admit his wife.

Narcissa Malfoy brushed past her husband and came to a stop in front of Harry. "Are you alright?" She asked as she gathered Harry to her.

"I'm fine, Mrs. Malfoy." Harry said as he squirmed out of her arms. _Okay, she's nice, but there's no need to cuddle me in front of two men. I'm an adult!_ Harry almost laughed at himself. He often forgot what others saw when they looked at him. "It was just a dream." He said, more to reassure himself than anyone else in the room. _Did Snape just snort?_ "Is it time to get ready?" He asked.

"Yes, Mr. Potter." Narcissa said softly. "Go wash your face and do something with that hair." She said, giving him a little nudge towards his bathroom.

"My hair does what it wants, Mrs. Malfoy." He told her with a sigh. "I'll try anyway." He promised when she raised an eyebrow at him.

Narcissa waited until Harry disappeared behind the bathroom door before turning to speak to her husband and his friend. "Was it bad?" She asked.

"It took him longer to come out of it." Lucius told her. "The reaction has become faster, if that is possible." He gave a slight shrug. "He didn't seem to mind touching Severus at all."

"He let you touch him?" She asked Snape with a smile.

"He touched me first." Snape explained. "Just my robes." He motioned to his shoulder.

"We'll talk later." Narcissa promised. "For now, I've got to get an extremely delicate little boy into dress robes." She turned towards the closet and dismissed the men with a wave of her hand. The two men gave each other identical looks of horror and left Narcissa to her 'nurturing'.

* * *

Harry sat in front of the mirror and stared at himself. Narcissa Malfoy was a genius. No, more than that. Pure magic. She had managed to make his hair lie flat! Now, if she could only do something about his scar…

"Are you finished staring at yourself?" Draco asked as he entered Harry's room in his own dress robes.

"That depends on what you want me to do now." Harry answered as he stood to meet Draco. He smoothed the front of his green dress robes. He had tried the black dress robes, but Narcissa had vetoed that idea. She said the black dress robes made him too pale, but the green did not. Harry hadn't questioned it. It had to be a girl thing.

"We're allowed to go down now." Draco said as he checked himself in Harry's mirror. "Our dates are here." Draco said with a grin.

"Dates?" Harry asked with dread. "What dates?" Mr. Malfoy had not said anything about dates for the evening.

"They're just some girls our age that Father and Mother invited so we wouldn't get bored. It's to give us practice for the real thing later on in life." Draco told him with a smile. "You already know them, Harry. Calm down."

"Who is it?" Harry demanded. He refused to spend time with any girl he didn't like.

"Well, Pansy's coming for me, but we got you a nice Ravenclaw girl." Draco said with a smile.

"Don't toy with me, Draco." Harry warned him. "It's not funny." _This is almost as bad as Snape tossing me at Ginny after forcing that potion down my throat…'relieve some stress, Potter!'…hah!_

"No, I'm serious." Draco said, causing Harry's mind to jump to his godfather. _Note to self: Set plan into motion._

"Who?" Harry snapped.

"Mandy Brocklehurst." Draco said. "My father and her uncle work on many of the same boards, so Mandy's been coming here as long as Pansy has." He said. "She's half-blood, but Mother dotes on her, so Father allows it."

"You pure-bloods must get lonely." Harry said in a teasing voice.

"Don't tell my father that I agree with you." Draco said in a whisper. "Childhood playmates were hard to come by."

"I won't tell him." Harry said. "Glad to hear your opinion on it." Harry said with a smile as he followed Draco out of the room. Draco was voicing his own opinions more and more often as time went on, especially when Harry always asked for them. He even admitted that Hermione wasn't 'half-bad', once he managed to forget she was a muggleborn.

"It happens." Draco admitted. "But I'll deny it if you say anything." He warned Harry as the two started down the stairs.

"I wouldn't expect anything less from a Slytherin." Harry admitted. He looked up to see Pansy Parkinson and Mandy Brocklehurst waiting for the two of them in an alcove.

"Just remember that the girls are friends, not girlfriends. You do know how to dance, right?" Draco asked.

"Fine time to learn, isn't it?" Harry asked with a grin.

"Dear Merlin. We're doomed." Draco said as they reached the girls. Harry offered his arm to Mandy with a smile and followed Draco into the ballroom. It was time to dreg up the lessons Hermione had given him one evening in Headquarters. Dancing for the Yule Ball couldn't compare to Hermione's lessons.

* * *

"The boys appear to be enjoying themselves." Narcissa told her husband as she returned from another round of mingling with the other wives.

"Yes, they do." Lucius agreed. "You did a wonderful job teaching Potter to dance, Severus." He said in a complimentary tone. Snape raised an eyebrow in surprise and turned to look at the corner the children had staked out as their territory. Would wonders never cease? The boy was actually _graceful_ while dancing. It certainly made up for lack of ability in every day walking.

"I did not teach him to dance, Lucius." Severus admitted. "That lesson was slated right before the holidays began, but I was forced to cancel it to deal with some unruly students." Snape said while watching Harry.

"Where did he learn it, then?" Lucius asked in surprise.

"Only the gods could tell us that." Snape said. "He is a Ravenclaw. Perhaps he found a book on it." Snape suggested. He doubted it. Potter could not have learned the necessary steps from a book. Or the movement and rhythm. That only came from practice.

"Well, you two may stand here and gossip like a pair of old women. I'm going to claim my son for our traditional dance." Narcissa said as she slipped away from the pair. It was a Christmas tradition for her and Draco to share a dance to the same song every year. She had just arranged to have 'their' song played.

"What do you say to making two young girls very happy?" Lucius said as he pointed out the girls to Snape.

"I'll have to take Parkinson. Brocklehurst might faint." Snape sighed as Lucius led the way. He hated dancing with students, but Parkinson would not be a total waste on the dance floor. He only hoped she wouldn't get ideas because of it.

Potter only seemed too happy to allow his date to be taken away from him. He gladly handed off Mandy to Lucius Malfoy and told the man that he was going out onto the veranda for a quick breath of air, making his escape while he was unattached to another human being.

The ball wasn't as bad as Harry thought it was going to be. It helped that most of the adults were dancing and ignoring anyone under the height of an average teenager. In other words, Harry was too short to be given much notice at all, even with his 'Boy Who Lived' status. It was refreshing and kept him from feeling like he was surrounded. Still, he was grateful for the chance to get away from it all and collect his fraying nerve endings. He figured that they had another three or four hours to go until the ball would end. He had no idea how long children stayed. He hoped that he would be sent off to bed soon, so that he could prepare for the next day. Christmas. What would that be like?

He looked up as a man staggered out onto the veranda. He was obviously well into his cups and appeared oblivious to the world, and Harry. Harry gave him a slight nod, to be polite, and turned back to his study of the snow covered ground. He wondered what Draco would think if Harry suggested a snowball fight. Did Malfoys have snowball fights? Harry gasped as he felt someone grab the collar of his dress robes and yank him backwards. He coughed as he landed and scrambled up to his feet.

"You!" The drunken man slurred as he advanced on Harry. "You killed my Lord!" The man lurched forward and the light from one of the inside windows hit his face. _Oh, bugger._ MacNair advanced on Harry and pinned him against the wall.

Harry struggled to reach his wand and gasped as he felt the man's hand close around his throat. He lashed out with his feet and gave a silent cheer as the Death Eater gasped and released him. Harry scuttled away from the man and cursed to himself when the man caught his foot. MacNair lifted him up by his dress robes alone and dangled him there. Harry saw stars in the next instant and registered pain on one side of his face. The man had hit him. No, worse than hit him. He had smashed his fist on one side of Harry's head. "Tough little mite, aren't you?" The man said in interest as Harry remained silent. "Think you're a little fighter?" He asked as he hit Harry again. Harry remembered one thing about MacNair from his days of being tortured. McNair loved to hear the screams.

Harry gasped as he took another hit and brought his hands up to claw at the hand holding his robes. "Gerroff." Harry gasped through the swelling on his face.

"Ah, the little mite speaks." MacNair backhanded him and Harry could hear ringing. That wasn't a good sign. He jumped as a bright flash of light hit MacNair. The man howled in pain and dropped Harry. Harry crab-walked backwards away from the still howling MacNair and nearly screeched when someone picked him up. He fought for the briefest of moments until he recognized the person holding him. He sighed in relief. Snape would never realize how close he had come to losing a very valuable piece of equipment.

"Are you alright?" Snape asked him as he turned him around in his arms. This picking up thing was becoming very tiresome! Snape's eyes traveled over his face and Harry could practically see the concern in his eyes. "Tsk. That doesn't look good, Mr. Potter." Snape said as he rearranged Harry so that Harry's uninjured side rested against Snape's shoulder. "Let's get you away from him." He told the boy. _Good idea. Excellent idea. Why didn't I think of that?_ Harry wrapped his arms around Snape and held on. He knew Snape would dismember anyone who dared touch Harry now. Snape protection. It was a good thing.

"You found him!" Narcissa said in relief. Harry flinched as her hand touched a sore spot on his back._ I was just attacked, people. Let's just remember that fact, shall we?_ No one noticed his mental suggestion.

"Yes. I'll need your assistance upstairs." Snape said as he dashed to the staircase. Narcissa followed behind him and waited for an explanation. Harry's bedroom door opened without Snape needing to touch it. Harry felt more than saw his sitting room, but he was more than grateful to be back in his bedroom. He felt faint and wondered why. Snape lowered Harry to the bed. "Pajamas for him, please, Narcissa." Snape said as he knelt and started removing Harry's shoes. "Mr. Potter, please stay alert for a few minutes." Snape said sharply when Harry's eyes started to drift shut. Harry nodded and then grimaced as he remembered that his head hurt.

Narcissa returned with a set of pajamas for Harry. This particular set was Harry's favorite, but how did Narcissa know? He hurt too much to be embarrassed when Snape exchanged Harry's dress robes for the pajamas. Both adults had seen it all before, right? How else could Narcissa explain Draco?

"Dobby!" Snape called out. The tiny elf appeared with a swift bow. "Listen to me carefully, Dobby. I need you to go to Hogwarts and bring Poppy Pomfrey here. Request that she bring along her medical bag, understood?" The elf disappeared with a slight pop.

Harry reached up a hand and felt the heat coming off the bruise. "Don't touch." Snape said as he snatched Harry's hand away from the mark. Harry nodded and grimaced again. He kept forgetting that his head hurt. The delayed reactions started and he began to shake and gasp for air. _Shock:_ _a sudden or violent disturbance of the mind, emotions, or sensibilities. You're in shock, Potter. Just keep calm. _A pop surprised him and he jerked, only to hiss in breath as he felt his back twinge. MacNair had really tossed him about. The stone walls hadn't helped.

"Mr. Potter!" Poppy said in surprise. "Dear Merlin, what happened to you?" She asked as she took out her wand. Harry stared at her. He didn't have an answer. He was still trying to figure out what was going on around him.

"Drunken ex-Death Eater." Snape informed her as he took the bag from the nurse. "Ah, good." Snape removed a little pot of cream from the bag and set it on the bedside table. He started on the buttons to Harry's pajama top.

"I'm fine." Harry said in response to an imagined question. _Someone did ask me how I was, right? _He looked up at Pomfrey's face. _Guess not._ The nurse looked ready to string up someone.

"You are not fine!" Pomfrey objected as she started scanning. "No internal damage, thank goodness." She announced as Snape started smearing the salve on Harry's bruises.

"Good." Snape agreed. "Tilt your head." He said. Harry followed his instructions and winced when he felt Snape touch the bruise on his face. He jumped the slightest bit when he felt someone take his hand. He looked down, causing Snape to swear in French (Harry had learned a few choice words from Hermione) before nudging Harry's head up again. Narcissa Malfoy was holding Harry's hand. He wondered at it for a few seconds until Snape touched his face again. He tightened his hold on Narcissa's hand and mentally thanked her for the comfort. It felt better than digging his fingernails into his palms, no matter how used to the pain he was.

Harry sat throughout the whole ordeal and sighed when he felt some of the pain leave his body. A heavy lethargy entered his body and Harry wondered if the salve had anything to do with it. Snape pulled out a vial and uncorked it before handing it to Harry. "Dreamless Sleep." He told the boy. Harry nodded and accepted the vial. It was a full dose. A full dose meant a deep, full night of sleep. Harry didn't hesitate and handed the vial back to Snape once it was empty.

"Thank you, Prof-" Harry's eyes rolled back into his head as he fell asleep.

"That reaction is always amusing." Snape said to no one in particular as he ignored the glares of the two women. He couldn't help it if he enjoyed watching his potions at work. It gave him a sense of accomplishment.

* * *

Author's Note: Well, there is it. The next day is Christmas! 


	9. Christmas

Author's Note: Here's the next chapter. Have fun!

* * *

"Have you any idea who that was, MacNair?" Malfoy snarled as he threw the man against the wall and held him there with a firm hand on his neck. "Have you any idea?" He demanded again, nearly cutting off MacNair's air supply in his rage.

MacNair glared back at Malfoy but did not move from the restraining hand as he answered. "The Potter brat! The one responsible!"

Malfoy moved his face back from MacNair's as the alcohol-scented breath came into contact with his senses. "Yes, the Potter boy." Malfoy's tone was that of an overtaxed teacher with a particularly slow student. "Can you tell me why the Potter boy, of all people, is here this evening, in my home?" MacNair tried to struggle out of his grip, which resulted in Malfoy grabbing hold of MacNair's robes and slamming him into the wall again. "Do you want me to tell you, MacNair?" Malfoy questioned in a sneer. "You never were very quick, were you?" Malfoy slammed him against the wall again for his own enjoyment.

"The Potter boy is my _guest_, MacNair. I invited him for the holidays._ I_ invited him. Not my son. Not my wife. Do you know what that means, MacNair?" Malfoy smashed MacNair into the wall again and held the barely conscious man there. "He is my guest. Therefore, he is under my protection." That little fact made MacNair's eyes widen. "Yes, you understand now. You were, in fact, attacking my _child._" Malfoy snarled. "I would be within my rights to take your life at this very moment." Malfoy squeezed the throat under his fingers and listened as the bones creaked against the backgroud of the ballroom music.

"Please, Malfoy. I didn't know." MacNair started pleading. Malfoy was well-known among the Death Eaters for his bloodlust. "I didn't know." MacNair practically whimpered.

"That is not an excuse." Malfoy snapped, using the statement as an reason to throw MacNair into the bricks again. "You should not be attacking, harming, or even thinking foul thoughts of anyone here during the holidays." Malfoy squeezed his hand shut and smirked as MacNair fought for his air. He listened to the music still playing in the ballroom as MacNair's face slowly turned colors. "The holidays are sacred, MacNair. You know that. I'm going to give you a chance to set things right." Malfoy said calmly as MacNair started to claw at his hand. "You will appear on Boxing Day with a small token for the boy, ready to apologize to Mr. Potter in your most humble manner. The boy will have the choice of what I do to you after that. Pray he is forgiving, MacNair, for I am not." Malfoy tossed the man to the ground and scoffed at his pathetic attempts for composure. "Your celebration is finished this evening. I suggest you leave." MacNair scrabbled to his feet and fled from the verandah.

"That was slightly violent, Lucius." Snape said from a shadowed doorway.

"It felt good." Lucius admitted to his friend. "Violence doesn't often come my way, not since my youth, at the very least. Before I was a father." Lucius sighed before turning towards Snape. "How is Potter?"

"Unconscious." Snape drawled as he joined his friend in the light from the windows of the ballroom. "He was more bruised than battered. He had a slight case of shock, but I would too after being attacked like that."

"Were his injuries the cause of his…" Lucius started.

"No. One of my potions. I do believe that you and Narcissa will enjoy a restful night, as Potter will not be having any dreams…or brain activity." Snape raised an eyebrow at his friend in amusement.

"I see. I might need one of those myself." Malfoy confessed. "The very idea of someone being attacked in my home…it is not right, Severus. I wanted the boy to feel comfortable here. Welcomed. I would not be surprised to see him standing next to the front door tomorrow morning with all of his things packed." Malfoy grimaced at the thought. "I wanted him to be able to consider this an alternative home."

"I have a feeling that the boy does not consider anywhere on this earth his home." Snape said slowly as he moved forward to lean on the railing.

"Pardon?" Malfoy said in confusion.

"Potter has this look he gets in class, only when he's finished with his work, of course. He stares off into space. It's almost as if he's in another world." Snape shrugged. He couldn't explain it any further.

"I know." Malfoy said. Snape glanced at him in surprise. "I've seen that look. Several times. It's bizarre. He's there one moment and not there the next. He had that look when I went to retrieve him from Hogwarts. He looked…lost." Malfoy fell silent as he tried to gather his thoughts.

"I wonder if the attack from MacNair meant something else to him." Snape said in a pensive voice.

"Severus, you are spending too much time with Dumbledore. Your sentences are turning more cryptic with each passing year." Malfoy complained as he smoothed back his hair.

"Forgive me, Lucius." Snape said. "I feel that the attack from MacNair may have been parallel to something Potter has experienced before. An attack from his uncle, perhaps."

"We do not have enough evidence." Lucius said shortly.

"We do have truth serums." Snape returned.

"I want the boy to trust me. I refuse to violate that trust." Malfoy told him.

"Not for the boy!" Snape said curtly. "For his uncle. Just remember it as an option if you need it." Snape said. "In the meantime, try to speak to him just before he falls asleep, or just after he wakes. He is the most open then." Snape hoped that he had said enough to 'help' his friend while still protecting his student. He knew Potter's mental shields were weakened after nightmares, but he also knew that Malfoy was no Legilimens. He wouldn't be able to break into Potter's mind at all. That, at least, was safe.

"I would like to check on him." Lucius admitted. "I am right in guessing that my wife is with him?" Lucius asked as he turned towards the house.

Snape folded his hands behind his back and nodded. "I have a feeling that she would adopt him if you would allow it." Snape said as he and Lucius avoided the still dancing guests in the ballroom and started up the stairs. "She is very fond of him."

"He has become a welcome addition." Lucius admitted with a grin. "I haven't seen Narcissa this excited about something in a long time. She has been working on his Christmas presents for weeks."

"Good Merlin. I'm surrounded by Potter fans." Snape muttered to himself.

Malfoy entered Harry's rooms and stopped just inside the bedroom door to see his wife perched on the edge of the bed. She smiled at him and then turned her attention back to the boy. One hand was petting his hair. He noticed a brown furry object lodged under the boy's arm. "Nari? What's that?" Lucius asked.

"A teddy bear." She admitted. "I made him one when he started to grow restless." She said as she turned her attention back to Harry's hair.

"Restless?" Snape asked. "He shouldn't be restless. He should be close to death with that dose." He ignored his friend's glare. It wouldn't harm the boy. _A teddy bear? Why do I have the feeling that Potter would die of embarrassment at the idea of a teddy bear?_

"He was restless. A bit of moaning, a few tosses and turns." She elaborated. "The teddy bear stopped that." Snape blinked and looked down at the boy lost in Morpheus's world. He hadn't seen Potter so…at peace. So carefree. So childish. It was nice to see such things. And disconcerting. It didn't fit with the Potter boy he knew.

"We'll leave you with him, Nari." Lucius said as he went over to her and dropped a kiss on her forehead. "Severus and I need to return to the ball."

"Enjoy yourselves." The men had almost made it to the staircase before Narcissa ran after them. "Lucius, dear, please keep an eye on Draco and the punch. He asked too many questions about it to set my mind at ease." Narcissa told her husband before returning to Harry's room.

"I'll do that." Lucius said to his wife's retreating back. He only hoped he wasn't too late. A hung over eleven year old on Christmas Morning would not be pleasant at all. He dreaded the idea of his son being a caustic and grumpy present opener in the morning.

* * *

Harry tossed himself out of the vague dream he had been having and wondered what was so different. He felt drowsy. This was an odd state for him. He was never drowsy. He went from awake to tired to exhausted, but he never reached the state of drowsy. His ability to relax enough to allow himself to drift off to sleep had been shouted out of him by his teacher, and then later tortured out of him. He was only drowsy when drugged, and it had to be heavily drugged. He could no longer rely on Dreamless Sleep as the best sedative. It had ceased to be effective in his past life, much less work as it should now. It was just enough to ensure that he fell asleep and stayed that way without too many dreams for a little while. This was different. He pondered this feeling of "drowsiness". This was odd.

He had to open his eyes and figure out what was touching his head. He peered through the darkness at a shape above him. His instincts screamed for him to attack, to get away…to do something. He did nothing. He just lay there under the covers and stared up at the person hovering over him. "You're not supposed to be awake." A soft voice said as a hand smoothed his hair. Harry blinked at the voice, trying to place it. Where was he? Who was this? This was not his teacher. It was not Malfoy, or Voldemort, or Snape, or…. "Try to go back to sleep, Mr. Potter." Narcissa Malfoy. Harry stared at her. Narcissa Malfoy was in his room. Why?

"Mrs. Malfoy?" That's what Harry tried to say. It came out heavily slurred and not very intelligible at all.

"It's alright, Mr. Potter. You can go back to sleep." The woman said softly. Harry blinked again. This wasn't making sense. Nothing was making sense. This felt like the potion his teacher had forced down his throat after Harry's first little rebellion against him. Harry couldn't even think at that point. All thoughts of escape had left his mind when the…what was she doing there?

"Wha?" Harry tried to ask why she was there. He just couldn't form the words.

"I'm sorry that MacNair attacked you, Mr. Potter." Mrs. Malfoy said with a voice tinged heavily with regret. "Lucius and I want you to feel safe here." Lucius? Safe? Safe where? "Please trust me when I say that no one will ever attack you again." Mrs. Malfoy told him. She reached out a hand and started smoothing his hair again. "You can feel safe here, Mr. Potter." It sounded like a promise to Harry's ears.

Harry reached out a shaky hand and lowered it onto Mrs. Malfoy's arm. She was such a nice lady. " 'Sokay." Harry told her. "I've mush worsh." Harry knew that he hadn't said that correctly. It didn't _sound _right.

"Did you just say that you have had much worse?" Mrs. Malfoy asked softly.

"Yeah." Harry said, pleased that she had been able to divine what he meant from his slurring. "Zactly." He smiled at her and hugged an object to him. His brain told him it was dark colored, warm, fuzzy, and was soft. He couldn't put together what the object was, but he liked the feel of it. It was…safe.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Mr. Potter. Deeply sorry." Mrs. Malfoy said as she reached out and squeezed Harry's hand. Harry looked down at his hand and a memory told him that she had done that before. Harry smiled up at her. She was really nice.

"Sokay." He told her. "Call m' Harry, peas." Well, that hadn't come out right either. He shifted his head to look at Mrs. Malfoy and felt his eyes drop of their own will.

"I'd be happy to call you 'Harry'." Mrs. Malfoy said with an odd sound to her voice. Harry squinted at her. Was she crying? "Very happy indeed." She said softly. "You go back to sleep, Harry. I'll see you in the morning." She said as she tucked blankets around him.

"Kay." Harry agreed as he shut his eyes. Sleep sounded like a great idea and he was more than willing to get more of it. He felt his body relax further as Mrs. Malfoy smoothed his hair back. She was humming a little tune and Harry wondered what it was for a few minutes until his tired mind decided it wasn't that important, but sleep was important. He drifted off to sleep with Narcissa Malfoy humming a lullaby.

Narcissa hovered over him for a little while after Harry returned to the land of dreams. She lost herself in thought as one hand continued soothing the child's wild hair. She was slightly disturbed by what she had learned. The boy had worse? What did that mean exactly, and how did he receive worse treatment than that? Who would have the gall to treat a child so shamefully? There was one bright spot. She could now call him 'Harry'.

* * *

"Harry!" Harry squirmed closer to his pillows and ignored the voice calling him. He was tired and actually comfortable in bed. He wanted to sleep. "Harry, wake up!" Harry motioned the voice away and pulled the blankets around him. "Harry!"

"What?" The whine came out faster than he could process it. He couldn't remember the last time he had whined automatically like that. It had all been planned and timed since he came back. He nudged something warm and fuzzy under the pillows and turned to glare at the Malfoy hier.

"It's Christmas day." Draco said in an impatient voice. The boy crossed his arms and glared at Harry.

"And?" Harry said as he lay back down. "Let me sleep." Harry whined again as he settled himself back into his blankets and pillows.

"Any other day, you're up at dawn's light, but on Christmas, you decide to sleep until nine o'clock?" Draco said in disbelief. "It's Christmas!"

_And I was attacked last night by a loyal Death Eater of the Dark Lord._ "Is that supposed to mean something?" Harry asked, now impatient with Draco. Why was the boy here?

"It's Christmas!" Draco said again in a desperate tone.

"I take it, from the way you said it, that 'Christmas' means something special is planned for today?" Harry asked as he finally sat up.

"Yes!" Draco snapped, moving towards the bed. He jumped up next to Harry and glared. "Are you trying to tell me that you've never had a Christmas before?" Draco asked.

"You said it. I didn't." Harry eyed Draco and sighed. "You're not going to go away, are you?" _Stupid holiday celebrations!_

"No. Come on!" Draco practically tugged Harry off the bed.

"Fine. Let me get dressed." Harry said as he threw back his blankets and scooted to the edge of the bed.

"No need." Draco said as Dobby popped into the room with a box beside him. Draco took the box from Dobby and handed it to Harry. "There's a robe and slippers in here. Breakfast and presents are done still in pajamas." Draco explained. "Mother picked these out for you."

"She didn't have to do that." Harry said.

"She wanted to." Draco returned. "She really likes you, Harry. She'd probably keep you if you would let her." Draco admitted.

"That's not necessary. I'm not up for adoption." Harry said with a grin as he opened the box. A plush green robe lay in the box, along with a matching pair of slippers. "Merlin." Harry breathed, amazed at the embroidery of runes on each sleeve and around the collar. He had to study them a minute until he realized what they were. _Peace and safety? _

"She did it herself, but you didn't hear that from me." Draco warned him.

"Our secret." Harry said as he removed the robe from the box and stared at it.

"I bet it looks even nicer on." Draco commented.

"Alright. I get the hint." Harry said as he pulled on the robe. He felt a vague brush of magic and stared at Draco. "The runes are active."

"I told you, Harry. She _likes_ you. Now, slippers!" Draco commanded.

Harry put on the slippers and Draco pulled him from the room and down the stairs. He bypassed the formal dining room and led Harry into a smaller and brighter room. "Good morning!" Draco said as he released Harry just inside the door and leapt towards his parents.

"Good morning, son." Lucius Malfoy said as Draco settled on the couch next to his father. "Happy Christmas."

Narcissa Malfoy looked up, and Harry shrank back in the doorway. He hated interrupting family celebrations of any kind and this was the _Malfoys_. "Harry? Come sit down." Narcissa motioned Harry forward with her hand. Harry stared at her for a few seconds before moving forward. He remembered telling her to call him Harry, but he couldn't place the exact moment. "Come on." She encouraged when Harry hesitated. Harry came to a stop in front of Narcissa.

"Thank you for the robe and slippers, Mrs. Malfoy." Harry said softly.

"You're quite welcome, Harry." She reached out a hand and fixed his collar. Harry jumped in surprise as she pulled him to the couch and placed him next to her. She gave him a quick squeeze around the shoulders before Harry had time to pull away from her. Harry gave her a small smile and nearly leapt off the couch when a table appeared in front of the couch. Narcissa chuckled and passed a hand over Harry's tousled hair. "It's just breakfast." She said, clearly amused at Harry's reaction. "We forget our manners on Christmas morning." She sat up a bit and removed one of the plates and filled it with little finger foods: muffins, sliced fruit, berries, tiny toast sandwiches, and hard boiled eggs. "Eat as much as you can." She said as she opened a napkin and spread it on Harry's lap.

Harry sat and waited until he saw what the Malfoys expected before he started on his own food. It was all delicious, something he had come to expect from the Malfoy home. He watched as Draco and Mr. Malfoy teased each other without mercy. Mrs. Malfoy seemed to be focused on everyone, but kept one eye on Harry. She would pat Harry's shoulder or smooth his hair at an unexpected moment. He jumped the first few times, but eventually calmed down enough to relax when she touched him. He was almost relaxed. He didn't know if it was the residue from the Dreamless Sleep (unlikely), a full stomach, (also unlikely) or the runes. _It must be the runes._ Harry thought to himself.

"Presents!" Draco crowed as the breakfast things disappeared. Harry jerked and stared at Draco. He was unable to believe Draco Malfoy could be so very _young_. Harry hoped Draco's past would not repeat itself, that he wouldn't be robbed of his childhood again. No one deserved that.

"Father Christmas, you'll be pleased to know, did indeed make a stop here." Mr. Malfoy said as he waved his wand. _Does Draco actually believe in that old story? Father Christmas doesn't exist. Never has, never will. How gullible can you get?_ A large Christmas tree appeared in the corner, surrounded by a mountain of packages. Harry stared, gob smacked. _All of this for just one holiday?_

"Harry?" Harry looked up at Mrs. Malfoy. "Come on." She said, taking his hand. Harry allowed himself to be pulled onto his feet. Narcissa led him over to the Christmas tree and positioned him in front of a mound of the mountain. "These are yours." She said with a smile. Harry looked between her and the presents several times to make sure she wasn't mistaken. "Go on." She said as she sat down in a nearby armchair. Harry looked around and watched Draco start tearing through his packages. _Draco is having a Dudley moment._

Harry sat for a few minutes, just watching, until he felt everyone's attention shift from him. He looked over his packages and read one tag. This package was from Hermione. Harry pulled it towards him and studied it. He opened one end and slid it out of the paper. A book fell into his lap. He smiled at the title of _Self Defensive Spellwork_. Hermione knew him well. He set it aside and reached for the next one, knowing Hermione would enjoy her gift tokens to Flourish and Blotts. His next was from Terry, and he laughed under his breath. _Great minds, Terry._ He and Terry had both sent the same gifts to each other. He put the Gobstones aside and found the envelope from his relatives. Harry opened the next gift and knew only Draco could have gotten him _Quidditch Through the Ages._ A few similarly wrapped packages caught his eye. He read the card included, and his eyes slid over to Narcissa. He nodded to her when she smiled at him. The paper slid off easily and Harry opened the box to find several new outfits and robes inside, all brand new with his initials embroidered on the inside. "Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy."

"Happy Christmas, Harry." She said with an odd look. She appeared to be restraining herself from something. Harry frowned a bit before turning back to the clothing. He noticed the same runes from his robe on every article, so small that he could almost mistake them as nothing more than embellishment. _She obviously wants me to feel safe and peaceful...not that I'm arguing. _Harry knew he hadn't felt this relaxed since before Voldemort's return. _Perhaps the runes are for the best. They'll make me calmer. Less prone to diving for cover. Instant calming draught without the nasty side effects._

Harry recognized the next package and opened the note. Why had Dumbledore sent him his invisibility cloak at the Malfoys? Was it a warning, or had Dumbledore always meant to give it to Harry his first Christmas in the magical world? Harry set the slightly altered note (_Do not open this in front of the Malfoys!)_ aside and moved onto the next package.

He was amazed to find that it was from Professor Snape. _For our lessons, Potter, if only to secure my own life. I, of course, did not give you a gift at all, considering I am a teacher and gift-giving would be seen as favoritism._ Harry got the message. No one was to know where, or from whom, he received this gift. Harry ghosted his fingers over the dragon hide cover and smiled at his initial in silver on the front. He pressed his thumb on the clasp and smiled when it unlocked. He opened the case and found that the elaborate case contained a Potions Master's journal, complete with non-acidic parchment, specially charmed to be impervious to both acids and bases, a Dictation Quill charmed to take notes, and a small box. He rested the case on his knees and opened the tiny box to find it was much like Moody's trunk, with separate compartments for ingredient gathering. His fingers discovered an envelope tucked between the leaves of parchment. Curious, he broke the seal and pulled out some parchment.

_Mr. Potter,_

_While many people would consider this an inappropriate gift for an eleven year old, I do not. You have talent in the field, Mr. Potter, an instinct with Potions that is extremely rare. I refuse to see that talent go to waste. Our private sessions will continue for as long as you wish. I would recommend you for an apprenticeship if you were older, but eleven is a little young for that. We shall have to make do with each other. My only condition, aside from the required concentration in lessons and devotion to the art, is that you take better care of yourself. I cannot understand why Pomfrey insists I have some influence in your personal life, but I have passed on the message and now wash my hands of the matter. I'll see you when school resumes._

_S. Snape_

Harry replaced the letter and shut the case. He'd never known Snape thought that of him. He set the incredible gift aside, slightly shocked, and then smiled to himself. It looked like Snape was on his side.

"My turn." Mr. Malfoy said suddenly. Harry looked up from his place on the floor. The man ducked behind the tree and brought out a shape Harry recognized as a bird cage. "I know you said your aunt does not allow pets, so this may stay here during holidays. I was assured that she'll know when you need her." Mr. Malfoy set the cage down in front of Harry. "Happy Christmas, Mr. Potter."

Harry stared at the man in shock. He had gotten Harry an owl? Harry was very glad he had given Mr. Malfoy his favorite blend of tea. It almost seemed inadequate now. Harry glanced up at Narcissa. She only gave him a smile. She knew, and she didn't warn him? That wasn't very nice. "Come on, Harry. Open it." Draco said. Harry reached out and pulled the cover off the cage. His breath caught in his throat and choked a sob as he stared at his owl.

Harry opened the door and held out his arm for his owl. Hedwig flew from the cage and landed on his arm. She hooted and head-butted Harry. "What are you going to name her, Harry?" Narcissa asked gently. Harry blinked back tears and petted his owl.

He turned to Narcissa with a smile. "Hedwig." He told her. "Her name is Hedwig."

* * *

Author's Note: There you go. Hedwig is back, for all of those worried. See you next chapter! 


	10. Pensieve

Author's Note: This chapter is dedicated to Renee. She knows what she did. Thanks go out to the fabulous beta, Mimi Taylor. She was instrumental in getting this chapter out.

* * *

Harry opened his eyes and found two yellow ones staring down at him. "Hi, Hedwig." He said with a smile as he sat up. He was glad to have her back, even though the giver had startled him. Mr. Malfoy had chosen the gift well. It was odd, seeing a different side to the man who had tortured him. He was starting to split up the different versions into "old Malfoy" and "new Mr. Malfoy". It was the only way to retain his sanity.

Harry kicked the blankets off him and got out of bed, petting Hedwig once his feet touched the carpet. She puffed up in pleasure, causing Harry to smile. "I'm going to get a shower, girl." He told her. His quarters with the Malfoys were amazing. He had his own sitting room, bedroom, and bathroom. Draco Malfoy must have thrown a fit when he learned he would have to share living space with other children.

He smirked at the thought and entered his bathroom. He locked the door behind him and started the water. Steam started filling the room as he removed his pajama top. "You're still too skinny, and your hair is still a bird's nest." The mirror said in a slightly peevish voice. Harry knew it was peevish because he had forbidden it to comment on his scars. "You should ask Lord Malfoy for help." The mirror suggested in a bored tone. It must have been tired of repeating itself.

"Thank you." Harry said with a smirk. "I'll consider it." Harry said as he ignored the idea that an actual person could be in the mirror. He had lost his modesty over the years, especially in the last year before he was taken. His teacher had barged into his room at will, causing one or two embarrassing moments for Harry. He had been seventeen, after all, and was no stranger to certain...activities common to his age group. His teacher had thought it hilarious.

Harry had perfected the three minute shower and re-entered his room wrapped in a towel. He spent a few moments studying the wardrobe before deciding on one of his new outfits Mrs. Malfoy had given him. He pulled out the black slacks, green button down shirt, and black robe. All three articles had the runes on them. A quick search produced black dress shoes. His old trainers from the Dursley's had disappeared; he suspected it was Dobby's doings. New socks and underwear had appeared, far better than what Harry had purchased. His workout clothes had not been touched, or his pajamas. Mrs. Malfoy had simply added to them. _She's trying to turn me into a duplicate Draco._

He dressed quickly and fed Hedwig. She set to her breakfast, and Harry left his rooms to go to the library. There had been a book he had wanted to read for some time, but he hadn't been able to get to it yet. Draco was rather demanding of Harry's time. He could only study at night, which had turned out to be extremely difficult, since Mrs. Malfoy had started "checking" on him. She had caught him up last night with both Potions' theory and Ancient Runes. So he couldn't sleep last night! In fact, Christmas Eve was the only night Harry had managed to sleep through. School work had filled the time last night...until she had found him.

The book was right where he had left it. He pulled it from the shelf and settled in the biggest chair he could find facing a window. He sat with crossed legs and found that no one would know he was there if they did not look around the chair. He was invisible. He smiled to himself and opened the book. _Ancient Dark Arts and Their Uses_ was a disconcerting read, at the very least. It also held an amazing description of the construction of Horcruxes, which could help him destroy them without the massive power he had used before. He had passed out more than once and had found himself in a coma for about a week after Hufflepuff's cup. He had found Horcruxes to be like the person who had made them. They were powerful and cunning. Pure power could destroy them, but they did not disappear without a fight. Understanding them would give him an edge he would need.

He jumped as he heard voices in the hall directly outside the library. "Lucius, I'm worried about him." Harry froze. It was the Malfoys. "He doesn't sleep at night."

"Draco says that is normal for him." Lucius replied in a mild voice. Harry heard the man open the door.

"Draco also says that Harry has never had a Christmas." Narcissa's tone changed to one Harry had recognized as one Mrs. Weasley used when she was ready to lecture.

"Perhaps the Muggles don't celebrate it." Malfoy said, clearly remaining patient with his wife.

"His mirror says that there are many scars on his back. From lashings." _I'm going to shatter that mirror!_ "Are you trying to tell me that that is normal?"

"Narcissa, there is nothing we can do without more evidence. Unless we catch them in the act or the boy himself steps forward and tells us something...we can't do anything." Was he imagining things? Did Malfoy sound regretful? _New Mr. Malfoy, Potter. Get it straight._ "I have my suspicions about his home life, but we have no proof."

"What further proof do we need?" Narcissa demanded in a harsh whisper. "He flinches at human contact, his nightmares are worse than any normal childhood fears, he's not had a Christmas, his clothing was deplorable (_She should have seen my clothing before I went shopping)_, he is severely underweight, and he has scars on his back. He said he's 'had much worse' the evening MacNair attacked him." Harry almost dropped his book. _I did? Not good._ "He is defensive, quiet, and enjoys being considered invisible. What does that tell you, Lucius?" Narcissa snapped at her husband.

"That you are utterly taken with the boy." He said with understanding in his voice. "I know you're upset, Nari, but the next step is the boy's to take. Let him know that he can talk to either of us whenever he needs to. That may be the reassurance he needs to confide in us." _That is the most laughable idea I have ever heard!_ Harry heard the door shut. He relaxed back into his chair and sighed. He had been afraid that Mr. Malfoy would enter the library. That would have been a difficult situation.

Harry left the library after replacing the book on the shelves. It was too risky to read it during the day, especially with the Malfoys concerned over him. He wondered if he could manage to copy it so that he could read it on his own time, away from the Malfoy house. He retreated to his room and curled up in the window seat with his _Moste Potente Potions_. Hedwig flew over to him and settled on his knee. He smiled and started petting her, feeling the tension from the conversation he had heard drain away from him. It was either the runes or the pet. Hedwig was one of those loose ends he had never found before. She had just disappeared one day right before his teacher had appeared. Harry hadn't seen her again. He had missed his pet more than he realized. He was still in the seat an hour later when the breakfast bell rang. He closed his book, patted Hedwig on the head once more, and left his room for the dining room.

* * *

"Mr. Potter?" Harry heard Mr. Malfoy say as he left the dining room. Harry stopped at the door and turned around. "May I speak to you for a moment?" Mr. Malfoy asked in a soft voice.

"Yes, sir." Harry answered as he followed Mr. Malfoy's gesture to leave the room. Mr. Malfoy took him to the study he had first called Harry into after his nightmares.

"Please have a seat." Mr. Malfoy said once he had shut the door behind him. Harry chose the same seat he had had the first time around and waited for Mr. Malfoy to get to the reason the Malfoy patriarch brought him here.

"Have I done something wrong, sir?" Harry asked, just to be sure.

"No, lad." Mr. Malfoy said as he took his own seat. "I wanted to apologize for the experience you had in my home." Malfoy said with a voice full of regret.

Harry's mind skittered to a stop and died. "Pardon?" He choked out. _He's not talking about that, idiot!_

"Forgive me. I tend to jump ahead without explanation. I'm referring to Christmas Eve, when my associate attacked you on the verandah." Malfoy explained. "He was severely intoxicated, though that does not excuse what he did." Malfoy said.

"That's alright. I mean, I know people can do stupid things when they're drunk." Harry fought to keep from stammering. He'd enough experience with his uncle when he was drunk. Vernon never mentioned what he had done while drunk, but Harry felt that he would have apologized...if he hadn't hated Harry so much.

"No, it's not." Malfoy said patiently. "Are you familiar with the concept of wergild, Mr. Potter?" Malfoy asked, moving forward to lean his elbows on his knees. It forced Harry to look him straight in the face.

"No, sir." Harry responded. That didn't even sound familiar.

"Wergild is an ancient tradition dating back to before the Founders." Malfoy explained. "It is a tradition of compensation. It was once used for the loss of life, but now it is more for injury." Malfoy said with a funny expression on his face. "When I invited you here, ancient traditions were invoked. Traditions of hospitality and fostering." He smiled at Harry.

Harry felt his stomach twist. _Fostering? Does that mean...?_ "I don't understand, sir." He said, shaking his head just the slightest bit.

"When MacNair attacked you on Christmas Eve, he may as well have attacked me personally. The injury is the same." Malfoy explained. Harry couldn't believe the man was so patient with him. "So long as you are in my home, Mr. Potter, under my protection, you are my child."

"Pardon?" Harry squeaked. Snape had threatened Harry's previous "huh" habits with detention for life. That would have put his Horcrux work in jeopardy.

"It's nothing official, nothing on paper. It only means that so long as you are in my house and under my protection, you are my son _de facto_." Malfoy looked at Harry and frowned the slightest bit. "I've confused you. You do not understand Latin?"

"Only my spells, sir." Harry answered.

"Very well. I'll be sure to give you some books about it. What I am trying to say is that you are my foster child while here. MacNair attacking you is the same as attacking any other member of the Malfoy family." Malfoy studied him for a moment. "Do you understand now?" He asked.

"Is it permanent?" Harry asked. He couldn't let it happen. There was no way he was going to be in Malfoy's power. No way in the world.

"No, Mr. Potter." Mr. Malfoy said with a tiny chuckle. "No, it is not permanent, unless you want it to be?" Harry's eyes shifted to meet Mr. Malfoy's in shock. _The Dark Lord will have a fit. It'd almost be worth it._

"I think my aunt would miss me a little too much." Harry said calmly. Mr. Malfoy studied him for a few minutes before nodding.

"Very well. MacNair is here to apologize for his behavior the other evening." Mr. Malfoy said as he stood up.

"Oh." Harry hadn't known he would have to see the man again. He felt his wand under his sleeve. "That's nice of him." He commented. He didn't understand the odd little smile Malfoy had.

"Yes, it is." Mr. Malfoy said as he led Harry from the study and down the hall. "He is in the formal sitting room." Mr. Malfoy said. "I'll be there with you the entire time." Harry thought that Malfoy was trying to sound reassuring.

Mr. Malfoy opened the door and went in before Harry, his wand in hand and on display for the other adult wizard. MacNair was standing in the center of the room with a box in his hands. Harry had to applaud the man; he hid his nervousness well. Mr. Malfoy always presented an intimidating picture, and he was apparently taking MacNair's actions as a personal insult. This was interesting.

Harry stopped as soon as he was in the room and waited for whatever was supposed to happen. Malfoy cleared his throat from beside him, and MacNair took one step forward. "Mr. Potter." MacNair said slowly. "I wish to apologize for my abhorrent behavior on Christmas Eve." He said as he drew himself up to his full height. "I have no explanation for my actions, save my own stupidity, and that I was not myself that evening." Harry could only stare at the man. MacNair was throwing his pride down in front of Harry and stomping on it. "I know there is no excuse for my actions." Harry nodded at that statement. Attacking Harry Potter when he was nineteen years old and trained for battle was one thing; attacking a defenseless (so they thought) eleven year old was another. "I hope that the gift I bring in compensation will help to efface my foolishness from your memories." MacNair placed the box down on the table.

Mr. Malfoy approached the table (between MacNair and Harry) and motioned Harry over. "Open it, Mr. Potter." Mr. Malfoy said, gesturing for Harry to come closer.

Harry kept one eye on MacNair and one eye on Malfoy as he stepped up to the table. He reached out a tentative hand and pulled the string away from the box. The flaps on the box fell open to reveal a stone pensieve. Harry studied the odd symbols on the edge of the basin for a moment before shifting his eyes up to meet Mr. Malfoy's own gaze. "It's a pensieve." He said unnecessarily. He reached out a finger and ran it along the edge, his mind already racing with how useful this thing could be for him. He wouldn't have to remember everything at once. He could find some reprieve from the ghosts of his past.

"Yes." Mr. Malfoy said calmly. "Do you accept?" he prodded Harry. Harry realized that the two men were waiting for him to say something.

"I accept." Harry said calmly.

"Thank you, Mr. Potter." MacNair said with blatant relief in his voice. "I pray that I did not ruin your holidays." He said in question.

"No, Mr. MacNair. This holiday has been very enjoyable, for the most part." MacNair ducked his head. "Thank you for the apology."

"Thank you for accepting." MacNair said as he stepped backward.

"Mr. Potter, would you wait out in the hallway, please?" Mr. Malfoy said with a slight smile as he picked up the pensieve and handed it to Harry.

"Yes, sir." Harry answered as he accepted the pensieve. He nodded to MacNair and turned on his heel. He stood just outside the door, wondering if Malfoy was going to add homicide to his holiday activities. Harry could see the rage at MacNair just beneath the surface, and if the way he had explained things earlier was any indication of his feelings, well, Harry didn't want to see a corpse during Christmas holidays.

He heard the sound of the Floo being used and relaxed. No corpses today. Mr. Malfoy came out into the hallway and nodded at Harry. "Come along, Mr. Potter." He said politely. Harry followed him back to the man's study and took his seat again when motioned to. "Dare I ask how you know of pensieves?" Malfoy asked as he stood with his back to the fireplace, his hands folded behind him and his head tilted in Harry's direction.

"I read about them." Harry answered calmly.

"Ah, yes. You read about them." Harry nearly laughed at the expression of chagrin on Malfoy's face. "I should have remembered that you are a Ravenclaw." Harry dropped his eyes down to the pensieve and smirked. "I am to guess that you read about how to use one as well?" Malfoy asked with a quirked eyebrow.

"Yes, sir." Harry said. "I use my wand." He shrugged. "It seemed easy enough." Harry toyed with the edge of the box and caught his bottom lip between his teeth, a habit he had picked up from Hermione some years ago of which he couldn't rid himself.

"Alright, then. Please let me know if you need any help using that." Malfoy told Harry before moving to his desk. "The family is going to St. Mungo's after lunch." Malfoy said. "You're welcome to come along."

Harry felt an odd sensation settle in his stomach. "Why?" he asked. He certainly didn't like hospitals at all and disliked the magical one even more. Too many people...

"Have you ever heard of the term 'noblesse oblige'?" Malfoy asked as he folded his hands and placed them on his stomach.

Harry cocked his head to the side. "I've heard of the term, sir. Something to do with obligations of the noble." Harry admitted as his lessons kicked in from some time ago. French was not his language.

"You're exactly right." Malfoy praised. Harry wondered if he was supposed to feel proud. "The Malfoy family donates a lot to St. Mungo's and we visit each year on Boxing Day. It's more of a 'seen and be seen' event, but I do like to keep an eye on how my investment is doing. Narcissa and Draco accompany me every year. You're welcome to join us as our guest." Mr. Malfoy offered. "I know Draco will welcome someone his age, as he finds St. Mungo's very trying."

_Stupid guilt complex making me feel I have to go. Still, it might be nice to get out for a while. I can even slip down to Knockturn Alley and make arrangements for this summer. They won't miss me too much._ "I'd like that, sir." Harry said.

"Very well. Narcissa will help you pick out something to wear later on." Mr. Malfoy said. "Now, go do something fun." He told Harry.

_Does reading a book about the Dark Arts count?_ Harry wondered as he left the study and went up to his room. Some things depended solely on definition and those definitions often clashed when compared between two people. Still, he had access to it...

* * *

Harry crept out of Knockturn Alley and ignored the very real need to shudder. Knockturn Alley never changed; it still reeked of Dark Magic and the fringes of legality. He felt...sullied. He cast a Scourgify charm on himself, glad that the Ministry didn't seem to notice magic with adults around. He had a feeling Mr. Malfoy would detect something on him without the charm. It was worth the risk.

He returned to St. Mungo's and crept in behind a frantic mother whose child had extremely large hands. He had told the Malfoys he was going to the bathroom; now he hoped they thought he got lost. He had been away longer than expected. The boarding house he had used before still had the same surly manager who didn't "take kindly to little people". Harry had needed to convince him that he wasn't there to cause problems by requesting a room that could be available on a moment's notice.

He passed through the children's ward and stopped when he saw the playroom. Small children were gathered around various activities. Harry paused when he saw no matron in sight. What if something happened to one of the kids while she was gone? That decided him. He opened the door and entered the playroom. Few of the children looked up and those who did returned to their games. Visitors must be common enough for the children to ignore them.

Another look around revealed a small girl about the age of seven in the corner by herself. She was wearing actual pajamas instead of a hospital gown. Her hair was brown, but it did nothing to hide the tears on her face…or the cat ears on her head. Harry went over to her and smiled. "Is this seat taken?" he asked, gesturing to the overly large pillow next to her. She shook her and Harry sat down. "My name's Harry." He introduced himself. "What's yours?"

"Natale." She whispered.

"That's a pretty name." Harry told her.

It's Italian for 'Noel'." She said. "My mummy's Italian." Natale explained, still in a whisper.

"I see. Why are you over here by yourself?" he asked. "Don't you want to play with the others?" The look Harry earned from that question could have destroyed Voldemort.

"They don't like me because I'm a Mug." She snapped.

"Do you mean 'Muggle'?" Harry asked.

"Yes!" Natale told him with the most exasperated tone Harry had ever heard a child use.

"You're not a Muggle." He said. "You have the ears to prove. It." He pointed. Her hands flew up to her head to cover the ears. "How'd that happen?" He asked,, trying to control his curiosity.

"I wanted to be a kitty. I only got the ears." She said.

"They're very nice ears." Harry told her. "Some wizards spend their whole lives trying to turn into an animal. You've already managed more than most full-grown wizards."

"So they're a good thing?" She asked, a small bit of hope creeping into her voice.

"Yes. They're a very good thing. You'll be a strong witch someday." He promised.

"I don't want to be a witch. You-Know-Who doesn't like Muggle witches." She said.

"Oh." Harry ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, but I don't know who."

"The evil wizard who attacked Harry Potter." She said. "One of the other kids told me all about him."

"You mean 'Voldemort'?" he asked.

"You're not supposed to say his name!" Natale gasped. She hid her face in her hands. "Now he'll come get us!"

"I've been saying his name for years." Harry told her as he drew her hands away from her face. Natale's eyes studied him and they went wide.

"You're Harry Potter!" She gasped quietly.

Harry smiled at her. "Yes, I am." He told her. "I won't let Voldemort hurt you." He promised. "You'll never have to worry about him."

"Oh." Natale toyed with one of the buttons on her top and sighed. "Okay." She said with all the nonchalance only a seven year old can manage. "Harry?"

"Yes, Natale?" Harry asked when she hesitated. _This is the reason I came back. I came back to protect people like her. I failed before. I won't make the same mistakes twice._

"Will you read me a story?" Natale asked, holding up a bright child's book titled _Merlin's Busy Day_.

"Sure." He said as he took the book from her. He started off with Natale sitting next to him. She had crept into his lap before the fourth page and Harry found that the rest of the children had gathered around them by the end of the book. "The end." He announced.

"This one next!" A boy with some kind of spots said. Harry took the book and nearly laughed at the illustration on the cover. A very worried kid-sized mummy was rolling up gauze. The title said it all: _Little Mummy Unravels_

"Oh, this looks good." Harry said as he opened the book. "Little Mummy was a happy mummy…" He started. He read through that one, laughing just as much as the kids when Little Mummy saw a bit of bandage in the hallway of the tomb and thought he was unraveling. _"Oh, no! What will I do?"_ Harry read in a high squeaky voice. Natale giggled next to him.

* * *

"I invite the boy to come along and then I lose him! Some host I am!" Mr. Malfoy said to his wife.

"Harry said he was gong to the bathroom." Draco said.

"We've had them all checked, as well as the hallways and waiting rooms." Mr. Malfoy said. "He's not in the bathroom, Draco."

"Mr. Malfoy!" A breathless secretary came into the waiting room. "We think we found him." She gasped out.

"Well, where is the boy?" Malfoy snapped. A good _Crucio_ would get better results than this 'patient understanding' look he had at the moment. The secretary motioned Mr. Malfoy to follow and left the waiting room. Mr. Malfoy grasped his cane tighter and stormed after the woman, muttering curses under his breath. She guided the entire family down a stairwell and onto the pediatric ward. They stopped at the playroom.

"Is that him?" She asked, pointing towards the room. Mr. Malfoy looked into the room and studied the children, looking for the typical stoic face. He heard Narcissa gasp beside him and turned.

"Lucius, he's laughing!" Narcissa said, her face showing her surprise.

Draco frowned as he studied his friend. "I've never seen him laugh like that." He told his parents. Harry was close to tears over a child's book of some kind.

"He's reading to them, Lucius." Narcissa said, reaching out and taking her husband's hand. "He looks so happy."

* * *

"…and Little Mummy learned that mummies can't unravel." He paused for a second to see the children hanging on his every word. "The end." A chorus of groans met his announcement. "Sorry, that's all of the Little Mummy." He said.

"Can you read another?" a boy asked, holding a stack of six or seven books.

"No, I'm afraid I can't." Harry answered. "I would love to, but I need to leave." Natale gave him a quick squeeze around his middle as he started to stand.

"Harry?" she whispered as the other children started to drift back to their activities.

"Hmm?" He asked.

"Can I have your autograph?" she asked shyly.

Harry could only smile down at her. She had to have worked herself up to asking. "Sure." He told her. Natale let out an excited squeak and dashed for some parchment and crayons. Harry took it from her with a smile and went over to the table. He jotted a quick message and signed his name.

"Thank you!" Natale looked down at the parchment. "What does it say?" she asked as she turned it as though to find some meaning.

"It says: _Natale, be the best witch you can be. I'll take care of Voldemort. Your friend, Harry Potter._" He told her.

"Okay, Harry." She said. "I'll do the best I can!"

"That's all I ask." He told her, accepting one final hug from her. He watched her leave with a small smile on his face. Children were so…resilient. He turned towards the door and saw the entire Malfoy family just outside. He paled, ducked his head, and left the room.

He entered the hallway and looked up at Lucius Malfoy. The man's face was not giving any thing away, which caused Harry's nervousness to go up just a little bit. "I'm sorry. I was lost and the children-"

"Are you under the impression that we are angry with you?" Mr. Malfoy asked. _This is the man that happily dislocated your arms. NO. This is new Mr. Malfoy._

Harry blinked and wondered if he should pick his jaw up from the floor before or after his brain started to accept that he was not in trouble. "Aren't you?" he asked hesitantly. He looked at the various family members and nearly reacted with violence when Mrs. Malfoy pulled him into a hug.

"We're just glad you're okay." She told him as she smoothed his hair back.

"Oh." Harry said flatly. Nothing was making sense anymore. He just wanted to go back to his bunk-oops. _You're no longer there, Harry. _

"I think it's time to go home." Mrs. Malfoy said as she straightened. She dropped a light hand on the back of Harry's neck and guided him away from the children's ward. He allowed it and fell into step beside her. He understood this touching thing. Mrs. Weasley couldn't stop herself from touching Harry in some fashion after he had returned from training, never mind that he was extremely uncomfortable with the idea of touch. He would hide in his quarters when they returned to the manor. He needed some time alone.

* * *

Dinner had been a trying affair for Harry. Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy had chattered on about Malfoy family business. Harry could tell what they were really doing. They were ignoring him. He was fine with that. He wanted to be ignored. He didn't want them to focus on him any more than they already had in the past few days. This was the first time he felt comfortable in the dining room since arriving from Hogwarts.

He had declined after dinner games with everyone, stating that he was tired. Draco had put up a protest at Harry wanting to go to bed early, but Mrs. Malfoy had practically rushed Harry up the stairs. Harry had no trouble realizing that Mrs. Malfoy wanted him to get as much rest as possible. He didn't argue with her, but had wished everyone in the sitting room a good evening and disappeared into his room.

He had greeted Hedwig with much patting and praises for her good nature and beauty that surpassed all other owls. He had missed his owl more than he had thought. Hedwig seemed extremely pleased with him, and she gave him an affectionate head butt to let him know how she felt. Harry smiled and patted her head again.

He worked out after he lavished Hedwig with all the affection anyone could desire. He kept his workout short but intense. He missed his freedom in the Room of Requirement. No one ever disturbed him there. He didn't have to worry about anyone thinking about what he was doing and asking awkward questions. He had no answers for them.

Schoolwork came after he cooled down from his workout. He had not taken Ancient Runes at Hogwarts the first time around, but he knew the class would be more useful to him than Divination. That class had been nothing more than a waste of his time...and talents.

He was startled nearly five hours later by a soft voice at the door. "Why are you still awake?" He dropped his quill and glanced over at the clock. 'Past Midnight'. He turned to the door of his room and saw Mrs. Malfoy standing there.

"Couldn't sleep." He said. He nearly hit himself when he realized that he was still dressed from earlier.

"It is very difficult to sleep at a desk, isn't it?" She asked with a smile Harry was sure had contagious qualities. He almost smiled back at her. "Let's get you to bed." She said.

"I can do it." He told her, aghast at the implications her voice held about 'getting him to bed'.

"Alright. I'll just wait while you change into pajamas." Harry could only stare as she turned her back to him. Wait, was she just going to stand there? While he changed? Harry pulled out a pair of his new pajamas and dashed into the bathroom. No way was he going to change in full view of Mrs. Malfoy, even with her back turned.

He came out a few minutes later and cleared his throat to get her attention. She turned and smiled at him. "Good night, Mrs. Malfoy." He said.

She only smiled at him, crossed to his bed, and pulled back the covers. She motioned for Harry to get in. _She's going to do the thing properly, isn't she? There better be no good-night kiss!_ Harry crawled into his bed, and Mrs. Malfoy pulled the covers over him. Her hand hunted out the fuzzy object from before, and Harry took it when she handed it to him. "Thank you." He said.

"Everyone needs a stuffed friend once in a while." She confided with a wink. "Don't tell Lucius, but I still have mine from when I was a girl, and Draco still has his dragon hidden under his bed." Oh, if Harry had known that the first time around! He could have used that knowledge before. He didn't know why, but he found that he didn't mind having a teddy bear. He had never had one as a child and now...well, he couldn't place his feelings. He knew what Snape would say. He also had a feeling his teacher was rolling in his grave somewhere. He didn't care.

Mrs. Malfoy sat on the edge of the bed. Harry regarded her for a few minutes. She took out her wand and lowered the lights down to dim fairy lights. The fireplace still contained a fire, and the light danced off the contours of Mrs. Malfoy's face. She smiled down at him and started to play with his hair. She talked in a steady voice about the Malfoy Manor, and Harry dropped off to sleep to the story of a secret passage somewhere in the east wing of the house.

* * *

Author's Note: Thanks for reading. 


	11. Conspiracy

Author's Note: This would have been up yesterday evening, but my internet went psycho. Enjoy!

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"_Feel free to fight me." His voice rasped in Harry's ear. "You're only wearing yourself out." Harry fought to free his hands and brought up a knee towards his attacker. "Close, Potter." The man chuckled and slammed Harry onto the ground again. Harry's head hit first and he saw stars behind his eyes. His body stopped moving as his brain tried to process exactly what happened. "Remember this, Potter: you are no longer a civilian. You are a soldier now and the sooner you start acting like one, the easier your training will become." The man's weight lifted from Harry's body and the door shut behind him._

_"You can't make me a killer." Harry whispered, more to himself than anyone else. "You can't make me." _

_"Harry?" Harry blinked. That voice was not supposed to be here. _

_"No." Harry denied the voice's existence. The gods were laughing at him if _that_ person was here._

"HARRY!" Harry's eyes snapped open as he leapt to his feet. His wand slid out from his sleeve, and he brought it up to cast a shield. "Whoa!" Harry looked down at the ground and noticed a small, black-clad figure cowering next to the seats of the compartment. Wait. Compartment? Train? The Hogwarts' Express? "Harry, it's Draco." The ball on the ground said. "You awake?"

"Now I am." Harry said as he dropped onto the seats. "Sorry. You startled me." Harry told Draco.

"No worries. Your nightmare looked intense." Draco said as he stood up and brushed himself off.

_If you think that was a nightmare..._ "A little." Harry said with a shrug. "Thanks for waking me."

Draco didn't say a word. He only smiled at Harry and held out a handkerchief. Harry took it and frowned. What? Draco saw his look and motioned to Harry's face. One hand rose up and he felt that his cheek was wet. He snorted and wiped his face quickly before casting a quick cleaning spell to return Draco's handkerchief to its normal pristine condition. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it. We're almost to the school." Draco said as he picked up the Latin book that had fallen to the floor when Harry jerked out of his nightmare.

"Oh." Harry opened his trunk and rummaged around for his school robes. He pulled them on and threw on his Ravenclaw scarf for good measure.

"Your hair is a bird's nest." Draco commented from beside him.

"And yours could stop a Bludger." Harry smiled as he delivered the comment. Draco held up his hands in surrender and smiled.

"Touché." Draco said. The train slowed and stopped at that moment. The announcement that they had arrived at Hogsmeade didn't surprise him anymore. He followed Draco out of the compartment and down to the carriages. He ignored the threstrals and settled onto the seat. He personally couldn't wait until he made it back to Hogwarts.

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Snape sat back in his chair and studied the returning students. Most of them were overly excited and energized by too much sugar on the train ride. His eyes ignored every Gryffindor possible, no matter that the Weasley twins were most likely planning some kind of mischief at that moment near the doors. _Wait a moment_. His eyes slid back to the doorway. They _were_ planning something! Snape stood and made it around the table in time to see a flash of smoke go up and hear two simultaneous screams. He had expected the screams to have come from first years; he hadn't thought he would ever hear the Weasley twins make that type of noise.

Someone had obviously ignored the prank and retaliated in the most embarrassing fashion possible for the twins: the two stood in their pants and nothing else. Snape felt the corners of his lips twitch. _Must...not...laugh...aloud._ "Mr. Weasley?" He drawled. "Did you forget something?" The students gathered around the pair started snickering. Snape only had to raise an eyebrow, and the laughter ceased.

"Uh, no, Professor." Fred or George said calmly.

"Actually, Professor-"

"We have forgotten-"

"To screen the firsties"

"For new talent." Snape hated twinspeak more than any of their other trademarks. It had to be a spell.

"Oh?" _I should really stop baiting the students...nah. _

"Yes. The person who-"

"Saw through that prank-"

"Has a bright future-"

"As a prankster-"

"A partner, we should say, George!"

"Quite right, Fred! A partner-"

"In the pranking business!" The two finished together and smiled all around. "Please step forward so that we may acknowledge your abilities."

"Mr. Weasely, you both have detention-" he was going to say _with me_, but he remembered that he had a lesson with Potter the next evening. "with Filch tomorrow evening." He said, watching as their faces fell and then lit up. Filch would need backup tomorrow night. He flicked his wand, and their clothes reappeared on their bodies. "Now, stop blocking the doorway." The twins bowed and walked over to the Gryffindor table, heads together, obviously plotting their detention for tomorrow night. The students gathered in the doorway slipped past Snape and towards their own places.

Snape returned to the head table and resumed his seat. "Nice work, Severus." Dumbledore commented. "I arrived to see the end of that. What was it all about?"

"The Weasley twins had set up pranks...someone was clever enough to reverse them. I'm claiming it was a Slytherin." He told Dumbledore. His eyes swept over the Slytherin table and stopped at Draco. The boy smirked and pointed at something. Snape followed the direction, and his eyes landed on a small boy with his nose in a book. Was Draco saying that it had been Potter? _Interesting._

"Go ahead, Severus." Dumbledore said. "Whoever managed to thwart the Weasely twins has a fair bit of cunning." Dumbledore smiled at Snape and turned his attention towards his meal. "So, have you any interesting plans coming up for the term?" Dumbledore asked as he spooned some vegetables onto Snape's plate. Snape ignored the vegetables.

"There is something that is troubling me." Snape admitted as he cut into his steak.

"Oh? Something with your snakes?" Dumbledore asked.

"No, one of my Potions students." Snape answered. He studied his plate and smirked. He could hide that huge piece of broccoli under his potato jacket...

"One of your students?" Dumbledore asked with a perplexed expression.

"I had thought that you would already know about it." Snape said, genuinely surprised that Dumbledore hadn't confronted him about tutoring Potter.

"Severus, while your confidence in my supposed omniscience is flattering, I'm afraid that I'm a bit out of the loop." Dumbledore said as he replaced the hidden broccoli with more. Snape scowled and wondered how he would get around that particular vegetable.

"I have a student displaying talent in Potions." He waved his wand and the hidden broccoli disappeared. He smirked to himself.

"Wonderful!" Dumbledore said, eating his own broccoli with a smile. "Who is this student?"

"I'm not telling. We agreed that it is a secret for now." He and Harry hadn't agreed on any such thing, but there were some things that he didn't feel like sharing. This was one of them. "I'm worried about the lack of challenge. Do I only allow work up to form level, or do I allow more advanced work?" He mused as he chopped the broccoli on his plate into tiny pieces.

"Let the student dictate what he...she...can handle. You'll find the proper level." Dumbledore assured him. The headmaster paused and chuckled. "That broccoli isn't going to eat itself." Snape scowled. He hated broccoli.

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Draco relaxed into his chair in the Slytherin common room and opened his stationary box. He had promised to send his parents a letter once he returned to Hogwarts.

_Dear Mother and Father,_

_Harry and I arrived at Hogwarts safely. The welcoming dinner was nice, and the pudding was amazing...though not as good as the cake we had at Christmas. _

_Harry fell asleep on the way to school. He had a nightmare. Father, Mother, I know he wouldn't want me to tell you this, but he was talking in his sleep. Even I know that it's not normal for an eleven year old to say "You can't make me a killer" in his sleep. I must admit that his dreams worry me. They're all so violent. His words disturb me. What should I do? Any advice is appreciated. I hope for an answer soon._

_Your loving son, _

_Draco_

Draco sealed the letter and stood up. He had just enough time to send it off before curfew.

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Snape glared into space and pondered the reason behind his empty coffee cup. He was sure that coffee had existed at one point. It disappeared. Most likely a student prank. He considered which House deserved to lose house points when he saw a hand with a coffee pot appear in front of him. He quirked an eyebrow as his cup refilled to the brim. "There you go, Severus." McGonagall said with a smile. Snape nodded to her and started on his second cup of the day. Perhaps Gryffindor House would get away with all of its points intact. He nearly dropped his cup when an owl dropped down in front of him.

He glared at the offensive creature and started cataloguing the various potions he could make with owl parts. The bird stuck out a foot and waited for Snape to take the letter. Snape sneered but removed the parchment all the same. He slid a finger under the seal and stared at the neat script before him.

_Dear Severus,_

_Draco wrote home and told us all about his train ride back to Hogwarts. He said that Harry had a terrible nightmare and was talking in his sleep. I don't wish to alarm you, but he said "You can't make me a killer." What do you make of that? What eleven year old says something like that? Please, Severus. Could you talk to him? I think that he might confide in you. Let me know if I can help you._

_Sincerely,_

_Narcissa_

Snape read the letter through a few times and glared. What was he, a Gryffindor? He stopped and looked up at the students. His eyes traveled to Potter, and he sighed. The boy looked as though he hadn't slept at all. His eyes were bleary and dark circles lingered under them. _Why must I always save students from themselves?_

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Harry toyed with his cereal and sighed. He didn't have much of an appetite this morning. His dreams were bad last night, full of images he wished his mind would just suppress. He didn't want to remember such things happening, didn't want to know that humans were capable of such cruelty. Such...animalistic behavior. His stomach turned and he dropped his spoon. He wouldn't be finishing his breakfast this morning. Perhaps Madame Pomfrey would give him a Stomach Calming Draught.

He jumped when a flash of white landed in front of him. "Hedwig!" he said happily as she perched next to his bowl. "You're such a clever owl! You found me first thing, didn't you?" He scratched her head and snatched a piece of bacon from Terry's plate to feed her. "You're the smartest owl in the whole world!" He whispered to her.

Hedwig hooted and presented a small box to Harry. "Thank you, girl. Would you like more bacon?" He asked, offering more of Terry's bacon. Hedwig hooted and accepted her reward. She nibbled Harry's fingers affectionately and then left the table for the Owlry.

"Did you forget something at home?" Terry asked as he replenished his bacon from the serving dish.

"I wasn't at home, so no." Harry told him. "I spent the holiday at the Malfoys." Harry said as he checked the package for any pranks or spells that could be harmful.

"That must have been...different." Terry said diplomatically.

"It was different. Very educational. Did you know that every single decoration used in traditional celebration has a special meaning?" Harry commented as he opened the package. An envelope sat on the top. He picked it up and opened it.

"No, I didn't. I'll have to research that." Terry said as he returned his attention to his breakfast.

"It's very interesting." Harry said absently. He was staring at the letter.

_Dear Harry,_

_I hope that you're very excited about your upcoming term. I know that you will study hard and do your best. Just be sure that you don't exhaust yourself. Go outside once in a while for some exercise. Play games. Too much study can make you ill. Please allow me to thank you for coming for Christmas. Lucius and I are more than happy to welcome you home whenever you wish. He agrees that you felt like one of the family while you were here. Take care of yourself and have a good term. _

_Sincerely,_

_Mrs. Malfoy. _

_P.S. – There are some sweets and other things in the box for you. Dobby was quite fussy until we said that we had planned to send packages to both you and Draco. Enjoy._

_NBM_

"Hmm." Harry slid the letter back into the envelope and looked into the box. Ice Mice, Bertie Botts, and several types of biscuits. _Dobby's trying to make me fat._ Harry thought. He closed the box and put it into his satchel. The other boys would help out with the candy, right?

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Harry dried the ink on his Herbology homework and allowed the parchment to roll shut. _Herbology done. Now, Potions._ He pulled out a new sheet of parchment and his book. He had just finished his first sentence when he felt eyes on him. He paused mid-word and looked up.

"Hi, Harry." Hermione said. "May I join you?"

"Sure." Harry moved some of his books across from him to make space for her. Hermione set her satchel on the table and dropped into a chair. "Did you have a good holiday?"

"It was brilliant. Mum and Dad were happy to have me home and I got a lot of new books for Christmas. How was yours here at Hogwarts?"

"Madame Pomfrey threatened to send me to St. Mungos. She said that I had to leave the school to _rest_, so I accepted Mr. Malfoy's invitation." _Nice and simple._

"That must have been interesting." Hermione said.

"Mm. Yes." Harry told her with a shrug. "Draco was happy about it."

"Harry?" Harry looked up from his Potions work. "You look like you haven't slept." Hermione said with concern showing in her eyes. "Worse than usual."

"We have already established my poor sleeping habits, Hermione." Harry said as he returned his attention to his homework. "It's nothing to worry about."

"I do worry." Hermione said. "So does Draco." Hermione pointed out. "He's just afraid of saying anything to you about it."

"You two talked about my sleeping habits, and he appointed you the one to come and talk to me about it." Harry said with a raised eyebrow.

"Almost. I volunteered." She said with a smile.

"Hmm. I appreciate the concern, I really do, but I'm fine." Harry told her as he started jotting down his next essay.

"You're not fine." Hermione snapped. "You look horrible. Let us help, Harry. Talk to us, at the very least." Hermione said to him as she stole his quill. Harry's hand dropped to the desk, and he glared at her. "We're your friends. Don't push us away."

"Are friends supposed to test your patience?" he asked with a grin so she would know that he didn't mean it.

"Absolutely." She told him. "So, about that talking to me?"

"You're not going to leave this one alone, are you?" Harry asked as he held out his hand for his quill.

"No. You're doomed." She told him. She dangled the quill in front of him. "Just one little talk is all I'm asking." She said.

"And from there it will be 'just one more' over and over until you know all my secrets." Harry folded his arms and rolled his eyes.

"That's what best friends do." Hermione said with a smile.

Harry groaned and lowered his head to the table. "What is this, some new form of torture? 'A Heart to Heart with Hermione'? Spare me if you're really my friend." He watched as Hermione appeared to be getting ready for a fight. He had just had another of those brilliant thoughts. _I'm getting those more and more often._

"Okay, you win." He told her in the next instant. _Why didn't I think of this before? She would be better at this than I ever could be._ "I've been having these dreams."

"I know." Hermione said with a smile.

"Could you not interrupt me?" He asked, trying to look hurt. "I'm trying to talk about my feelings here." He whined a bit for good measure.

"Could you be any more pathetic?" Hermione asked.

"I could, but I would have to have a little practice before I could manage to be convincing about it." Harry answered with a wide smile. He had missed this kind of banter.

"You were saying?" Hermione ground out between her teeth.

"Hey, you're the one who interrupted me!" Harry was actually enjoying this. "Anyway, my dreams don't make sense." He could tell that Hermione was fighting to keep from saying something. "There's a man in them. He says that his name is Sirius Black." Harry saw the familiar signs that Hermione was starting to think. "He just sits down next to me and says that he was framed, that he wasn't the Secret Keeper, but Pettigrew was. He says that Pettigrew framed him." Harry folded his arms again and looked away. "Then it gets really cold and I hear someone screaming 'Not Harry'." He sighed and snatched his quill back from her. "Now, will you leave me alone so I can finish this essay?"

"Sure, Harry. Thank you for talking to me." Hermione said. "It may not feel like it now, but I'm sure that talking about whatever bothers you helps."

"Me, too." Harry knew that it worked. Ginny and Hermione had both goaded him into talking in the past. It worked, but it also created nightmares in a new way. He shoved that thought away as Hermione smiled at him and stood up.

"I'm going back to Gryffindor Tower now." She told him. "Try to get some sleep this evening." She pleaded.

"I will." Harry promised. He hadn't had the time to brew Dreamless Sleep yet, but it was on his list for that evening. He wasn't going to try sleep again any time soon.

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Hermione left the library and headed back towards Gryffindor Tower. She chewed her bottom lip and wondered about what Harry had told her. Who, exactly, was Sirius Black? And what did he have to do with Harry? What was a Secret Keeper?

Hermione paused at the portrait. She felt the urge to return to the library and start looking up the answers to her questions. Would Harry allow that? She doubted it. He practically dismissed the dreams as nonsense. Hermione bit her lip as her indecision started to frustrate her. She wanted to help Harry, but he wouldn't do the sensible thing and go to a teacher. No, he would ignore the problem or something worse. He _needed_ to talk to a teacher. He wouldn't. She knew he wouldn't. Harry didn't like asking for help at all. He seemed to think that he needed to do everything on his own. She wondered if he would appreciate her going to a teacher _for_ him. _Well, better to beg forgiveness than ask permission..._ She only knew of one person she could talk to. She turned away from the Pink Lady and went to Professor McGonagall's office.

Hermione found herself at a bubbly portrait that was having tea with friends from other paintings. She reached out and knocked on the frame. "Come in!" She opened the door and walked inside. "Hello, Miss Granger. Is there something wrong?" McGonagall asked with a smile for one of her lions.

"Yes, Professor. I was wondering what a Secret Keeper is?" She said as she dropped into the seat McGonagall had motioned her to.

"Secret Keeper?" McGonagall said, her obvious surprise showing. "Where did you hear about that?" She asked.

"I can't tell you yet." Hermione answered. "What is it?"

"There is a spell called the Fidelus. It's a charm to hide something or someone. The hidden object or person could be in plain sight, but no one could see it or them so long as the Secret Keeper keeps the secret. They know where the object or person is. They keep the secret so that the person or object is not lost forever." McGonagall explained.

"He wasn't the Secret Keeper?" Hermione mumbled to herself. "That doesn't make sense."

"What doesn't make sense?" McGonagall asked. "You're not acting like yourself, Miss Granger."

"I'm sorry, Professor. It's just that my friend Harry is having dreams." Hermione told her. "I'm sure he wouldn't be happy about me talking to you about them, but I think his mind is trying to tell him something. Do you know who Sirius Black is?"

"Sirius Black?" McGonagall squeaked as her face paled. "How do you know about Sirius Black?"

"Harry's dreaming about him...or someone who says he is Sirius Black." Hermione said slowly. "This Sirius Black in Harry's dream tells Harry that he is 'innocent' and that he wasn't the Secret Keeper, but Pettigrew was. I don't know who or what Pettigrew is, but Pettigrew framed him."

"Really?" McGonagall asked. "Did Harry say anything else?"

"Just that and something about it getting cold with someone screaming 'not Harry'. I didn't understand that part." Hermione admitted.

"Mmm. I can understand where that would be confusing. Thank you for bringing it to my attention, Miss Granger. I'll have his Head of House talk to him." McGonagall promised.

"Thank you, Professor. He looks like he never sleeps." Hermione said as she stood up.

"Yes, I know. Have a good evening, Miss Granger." McGonagall waited until Hermione had left before going to the fireplace to Floo the headmaster. This was something that the man needed to know about. Harry Potter was a mystery none of them could figure out. "It's time for one of those Heads of Houses meetings." McGonagall said in lieu of a greeting. The Headmaster's twinkling eyes faded a bit as she explained what Hermione Granger had told her.

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Good evening, sir." Harry said as he entered the classroom.

"Potter." Snape nodded towards him and returned his attention to readying the Potions materials. Harry dropped his bag onto one of the desks and dug out his new Potions journal Snape had given him for Christmas. He had already catalogued every potion he had made since the beginning of the school semester, both in class and in his individual sessions. He slid off his outer robes and removed his tie. He took his smaller apron off the hook from Snape's closet and grabbed Snape's preferred one as well. He tied the strings on his and rolled up his sleeves.

"Over here, Potter." Snape said, motioning with one hand. Harry carried the man's apron over and handed it to him. The man nodded in thanks and motioned to the table as he pulled on the garment. "What do you see?"

Harry studied the table and frowned. There were several different ingredients laid out and a potion already bubbling away in the cauldron. He studied the potion in the cauldron and felt like he should know this potion. "You're halfway through a Calming Draught." Harry said after a few minutes of thinking.

"Yes." Snape said. "Now, what should you do at this stage?" Harry studied the color, the thickness, and smell before answering.

"You add the nettles here, sir." He answered. "And stir counter-clockwise for every clock-wise stir." Harry noticed that his quotation quill was already taking down his words. He could get used to that.

"Why?" Snape asked as he started setting up another work station. He paused to pull out his wand and spell his hair to stay in place.

"To disperse the nettles, sir." Harry answered. Snape nodded and turned to Harry.

"You may complete this potion on your own." Snape said. "I have another to start over here." Harry nodded and brought his Potions journal closer. He started adding the nettles and stirring. He finished the draught almost an hour later and waited for Snape to get to a stopping point so he could tell Harry what to do with the potion. Snape looked up from his own potion fifteen minutes later and rushed over to the cauldron. "This is correct." He told Harry. "Bottle it up and label it. Now Pomfrey won't bother me for at least a week." The man growled more to himself than to Harry. Harry hid his smile and retrieved the bottles he knew Snape used for the Hospital Wing.

He ladled the potion into the bottles and wrote out neat labels. He used the Sticking Charm Snape had taught him and corked each one. He moved the bottles to the shelves reserved for medicinal potions and moved back to his work station to clean up. He finished and waited for his dismissal.

The dismissal never came. Snape appeared to be deeply involved in his potion. Harry settled at a desk and opened one of his books. He was not allowed to leave without a dismissal. He didn't feel his eyes drift shut or his head lower to the desk around midnight. He twitched as he fell into sleep. His grip loosened on his book and his body fully relaxed. He dreamed.

_Harry's eyes drifted around the street, unable to quite process the scene before him. Diagon Alley was in ruins. Fires burned from the remains of the buildings and glass crunched under his feet as he wandered aimlessly. There was silence ringing in his ears. They had come to the Alley for a few last minute things to do with Bill and Fleur's wedding. He had been separated from the Weasleys in the fight. Now, he could only hope they were alive. _

_He shuffled forward, ignoring the sight of an eviscerated corpse next to him on the ground. He kicked some debris out of his way and saw that the Weasley Wizarding Wheezes storefront had been completely blasted away. He stumbled through the doorway and looked around. Skiving Snackboxes littered the floor and reminded him of the body he had seen earlier...the skull had been open completely and the wall behind it...He shuddered and pushed the memory away. He didn't want to remember such things. He heard a noise from the right and turned to see what it was._

_"For Merlin's sake, Potter! Where in the devil is your wand, boy?" Moody demanded as he advanced on Harry. "I thought you were better trained than this, Potter." Moody grabbed Harry's arm roughly and raised his wand for Apparition. _

_Harry stumbled when they appeared outside of the Burrow. Moody threw him to the ground and opened the back door. "I found the boy." Moody snarled at someone inside. Harry blinked up at the figure of Mrs. Weasley and collapsed against her when she sank down to hug him. _

"_Thank goodness you're alive!" she all but wailed. Harry breathed in her familiar scent and felt something choking him in his throat. "It's alright, Harry." She said as she brushed his hair back. Those words allowed Harry to break down and cry. He was safe with his foster mother. He could forget that he was the Boy-Who-Lived for just a few minutes. He could forget those words, the battle scene, his responsibilities-_

"_Let's get him inside, Molly." Mr. Weasley said sometime later. "He needs rest." The two adults lifted Harry to his feet and guided him inside. His friends were in the living room, staring into nothing. Hermione glanced up and then looked away when she saw Harry. He didn't care. He wasn't safe to look at right now. None of them could know what it had felt like to feel everything Voldemort did as he killed those around him without a thought. They shouldn't know that Harry felt the wizard's enjoyment of each life, that he had tasted the death like the lightest champagne. That Harry had felt what he had felt. That Voldemort had told Harry only _he_ could end all of the killing if he surrendered. Harry stumbled away from his foster parents at the top of the stairs and lurched into the bathroom to empty his stomach. A sleeping potion was forced into him, and he found his bed a while later. His resistance to sleeping potions kept him away from sleep for as he wept into his pillow._

"_POTTER!"_ Harry gasped as he felt rough hands grab his shoulders and shake him. He jerked away but the hands only held him still as he fought his way out of his nightmares. "It's just a nightmare." A voice told him. Harry reached up a hand and latched onto the shirt front before him as he fought to control his breathing. "Deep breaths."

Harry nodded as he felt a hand remove his glasses from his face. The person didn't move as Harry calmed down. He wasn't sure who it was, but he needed someone at that moment. He couldn't calm down by himself usually. He would stay awake and fight his feelings of terror until dawn came. He took another person's presence as a blessing when reality started to assert itself. "Drink this." The voice commanded as he held a cup to Harry's lips. Harry smelled a Calming Draught and sipped at it tentatively. "Drink, not sip." Harry followed the directions and felt it start to take effect. He took a few more deep breaths before releasing his grip on the person in front of him. Harry was glad when the person didn't move. He shuddered a bit as the potion's effect fully hit him. He pulled away and the hand left his shoulder.

He looked up and found that he was still in the Potions classroom. His eyes widened as he saw Professor Snape standing in front of him. "Are you fully awake, Potter?" Snape asked as he put the cup he was holding on the desk next to Harry's book. Harry shuddered and nodded. Snape frowned and picked up his outer robes and draped them around Harry. "Forgive me. I had thought you had left." Snape said as he secured the robes around Harry. He gave the still shivering Harry a moment's consideration before stepping forward and picking Harry up. "Merlin, Potter. Do you ever eat?"

Harry was in too much shock to answer. The Potions Master of Hogwarts...the Greasy Git...Death Eater Extraordinaire...had picked him up. Snape carried him through his office and through another door. Harry felt himself lowered onto a soft surface and left for a moment. Snape went over to a fireplace and the flames turned green as he stuck his head into the flames. Harry studied the room he was in. It appeared to be a bachelor's dwelling, but that didn't mean it was untidy. The rooms appeared to be as fastidious as the man who called them home.

Snape returned to his side a few moments later and sat next to him on the couch. "It's well after one in the morning." Snape informed him as he released his hair from its magic. A house elf popped up next to Snape, and the man accepted a tray from the little creature with a nod of thanks. He removed a mug from the tray and held it out towards Harry. "This will help." He promised.

Harry unfolded one of his hands from the voluminous robes around him and accepted the mug. "It only helps if you drink it, Potter." Snape told him tiredly. Harry raised the mug to his lips and started to drink the hot chocolate. "Dare I ask what your dream was about?" Snape asked him. Harry's eyes flickered upward for a moment before returning to study the hot chocolate. "Or why you were crying?" Snape asked as he turned to the tray again and lifted something from it. He moved closer to Harry and lowered the mug. A warm cloth rubbed over Harry's face. Harry allowed it. He figured he wasn't looking his best at the moment. The cloth disappeared and Harry blinked. "Finish your hot chocolate, Potter." Snape said quietly. Harry did as instructed and decided that he kind of liked it. Kind of.

"Do you go through this every night?" Snape asked. Harry shrugged. "Does that mean 'yes' or 'no'?" Harry looked up and shrugged again. "Right." Snape rubbed a hand over his face. _Why must I always be the one to do things like this?_ "I'm going to assume that you meant 'yes'." Snape said. "From prior experience." He remembered Potter's dreams at Malfoy Manor all too well. "Potter, it will help if you talk about it."

"I can't." Harry told him.

"Can't...or won't?" Snape asked as he turned to face Harry. Harry actually stopped to contemplate the question. Could he talk about it? He could pass it off as a seer dream. Maybe.

"Can't." Harry answered as he finished off his hot chocolate. Snape reached out and took the mug from him.

"Very well." Snape stood and banished the tray. "I'll walk you back to the Ravenclaw dormitory." Snape said as he pulled Harry to his feet. He summoned Harry's outer robe and satchel from the classroom. Harry abandoned Snape's robes and pulled on his own. Snape shouldered the satchel and put a light hand on Harry's shoulder as he guided the boy out of his quarters.

Snape left him at the Ravenclaw dormitory after a silent walk down the halls. "Good-night, Potter." Snape said as he handed over the satchel. "Try to avoid nightmares, if possible." Snape smirked at him and Harry nodded. He would try. Snape tapped Harry on the shoulder and held out a vial. "I can't give you a sleeping potion, but another Calming Draught won't hurt you." Snape told the boy before turning on his heel and walking away. Harry stared after him and wondered when Snape had changed to a paternal figure. He pushed that slightly disturbing thought away and said the password. His bed was calling his name.

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Author's Note: Thanks for reading!


	12. Snape Steps In

Author's Note: Here's the next chapter for you! I'm still in exams, so you should all consider yourselves very, very lucky that I am updating. Again, do not expect any updates until after the Christmas holidays (I go back to school on Jan. 8th). I want some time to myself after the semester that I've had!

* * *

Snape sat down heavily on his couch and stared at the spot Potter had been just a moment before. The boy was far too thin and it hadn't gotten any better since coming to Hogwarts. In fact, he was a little thinner than the start of the year, if Snape remembered correctly. He closed his eyes and cast his memory back to the first day of term. Perhaps. The changes were subtle. Potter had been thin starting out. Much more weight loss would be dangerous.

"Button!" he snapped into the air. The Head Elf appeared next to the couch and bowed. "Sit down, Button. I need to speak with you." Snape said, gesturing to the sofa. Button's eyes widened momentarily before sitting as requested. "It's about Harry Potter." Snape started.

"Harry Potter is such a good wizard! So smart and polite!" Button started. He lapsed into silence when Snape glared at him. "What does Professor Snape need?" He asked instead.

"I know how you elves feel about him. I've also seen some elves following Potter about from time to time. I've even seen one elf in my classroom, putting things into Potter's satchel." Snape gave Button a look that promised destruction. "I almost yelled at the boy until I noticed that he seems unaware of it. That, or he's gotten used to ignoring such things, an idea I find ludicrous now that I've gotten to know him a bit better."

"Professor Snape is correct. All of the Castle elves care for Harry Potter. They want to help Harry Potter, sir. He is a very important wizard and needs our help." Button explained.

"Fine. I have noticed that he does not eat the normal student fare. Is there an elf or group of elves that dedicate themselves to his diet?" Snape asked.

"Oh, yes. That would be Serry." Button answered with a smile. "Shall I call Serry for you, sir?" Button asked.

"Yes, please." Snape answered. Button snapped his own fingers, and another elf appeared and bowed.

"Serry, sir." She said in a bubbling tone. "What can I do for you?" She asked, seeing Snape before her.

"I need to speak with you about Potter." Snape told him. "Thank you, Button. You can go."

"You're welcome, Professor. Harry Potter needs someone like you." Snape only raised an eyebrow as the elf disappeared.

"Please sit down, Serry." Snape said, gesturing to the sofa again. Serry popped into place and looked up at Snape expectantly. "Button says you're in charge of Potter's diet."

"Yes, Professor Snape. Serry prepares all of Harry Potter's choices." She said with pride.

"His choices? What do you mean?" Snape hadn't heard the elves speak of something in that way before.

"Harry Potter didn't enjoy any of my suggestions at the Welcoming Feast. The elves arranged for him to choose what he would and wouldn't eat from a list, and then I fix dishes from his choices. He doesn't want anything bad for him, so I continue offering what he will eat."

"Did he say why he didn't choose certain things when he made his decisions?" Snape asked curiously. He had seen Potter eat a few things at the Malfoys' he hadn't eaten at school.

"No, sir. Just that he didn't like sweets." Serry told him.

Snape sat back in his seat and thought for a moment. This proved to be interesting. "Do you still have the original of that list?" He asked.

"Oh, yes! Serry uses it every time she cooks for Harry Potter." The elf looked quite excited.

"May I see it?" He asked. "I have a feeling Potter may not be making the correct nutritional choices for himself."

"That would be terrible!" Serry popped once and came back again with a roll of parchment. "This is the list Harry Potter made." She said as she handed it over to Snape.

Snape took it from her fingers and unrolled it. He studied it and frowned. "It appears that he is trying to lose weight...while nutritious, the list he made will not help him gain weight. With this list, he's trying to get nothing but muscle. Not entirely healthy for a boy his age." Snape commented. He jumped when Serry made a wailing sound. "It can be fixed." He told her sharply. He couldn't stand it when females cried, much less female house elves. The wailing noise choked itself off.

"It can?" Serry asked, dabbing at her eyes with the edge of her towel. "How?"

"I can make some additions that will help." Snape told her. "I'll even give you a letter to deliver with his first meal tomorrow that will explain the changes." Snape told her. "Come back in twenty minutes. I'll have everything you need then."

"Thank you, Professor Snape, sir. Harry Potter is fortunate you are his professor." Serry said as she stood and disappeared.

"I get the feeling Potter does not belong in Ravenclaw." Snape said in the air after her disappearance. He stood and went to his desk. He read through the list and started marking things that should be added to Harry's diet. He jotted a quick note threatening Potter's Potions grade if he should ignore the changes and called Serry back. _One mystery solved. Now, all we need to do is figure out his dreams, his reactions to close people, and his reticence to talking about it all. I am _not_ a counselor!_ Snape went to his bedroom and threw himself onto the surface. _Perhaps he doesn't need a counselor. Or doesn't want one. Some way to get out his emotions...they seem to be the most troublesome part. We _know_ the dreams disturb him...he won't talk about it. Would he talk about them? Would he write about them? Put them into a pensieve? Would a Muggle counselor be the answer? I must write to Narcissa and get her opinion. _Snape fell asleep, still fully clothed and worrying over Potter.

* * *

_Dear Narcissa,_

_I see what you meant about the Potter boy. I will do my best, though he may also benefit from a mother's attention, as I get the impression he gets little attention from home._

_S. Snape_

* * *

Harry scowled at his plate and wondered what on earth Serry was thinking. There was a lot of food on his plate, food that he remembered marking off the list. He scowled again and reached for his juice. He nearly choked when he found chocolate milk in his goblet. He set it down and wondered when the entire world had gone mad. He jumped when an envelope appeared next to his plate.

He picked it up and inspected the outside for any clues to the identity of the sender. Nothing. He broke the seal and slid out the piece of parchment.

_Mr. Potter,_

_Your diet, while sufficient for a person in terms of nutrition, is not enough to support a growing body. I have made appropriate changes that will allow for both nutrition and weight gain. You may feel free to discuss it with me, but I do insist that you eat like this at every meal, otherwise you will continue to be skeletal instead of your desired results...and endanger that Outstanding you have in Potions._

_S. Snape_

Harry's first thought was that Snape was blackmailing him. Harry knew his Potions grade was not important _per se, _buthe didn't want to wreck his persona over something like this. His second thought returned logic to his mind. He wanted to hit himself for being stupid. He had forgotten that the nutritional eating had only come after his teacher had bulked him up._ Absolutely brilliant, Potter._ Harry told himself as he put the note into his satchel and wondered how he would explain it to Snape. _Maybe I can spin it as 'I didn't understand what I read'..._

"Morning." Terry said as he settled next to Harry. "Looks like you're eating like a normal person."

"I'm going to ignore what you just said and wait until you come back to your senses." Harry told Terry without looking at him.

"Right." Terry helped himself to the eggs and started on his own food. "Maybe now you won't be so scrawny."

"I can't hear you!" Harry said, putting his hands over his ears.

"Oh, that's real mature." Terry commented. Harry grinned at his friend. He had put some of his worst memories into his pensieve, and he felt a little lighter this morning after a sleep laced with Calming Draught and removal of some of his most frightening moments on earth. He felt almost normal.

* * *

"Mr. Potter?" Harry looked up from his book to see Professor Flitwick waving at him. "Come with me, please." Harry frowned and shut his book as he stood from his chair in the Ravenclaw common room.

"What is it, Professor?" Harry asked as he went over to his teacher.

"Let's go to my office." Flitwick said as he turned.

"Did I do something wrong, sir?" Harry asked.

"No, child." Flitwick answered with a sort of sad smile. "You've done nothing wrong."

Harry blinked. _Child? He only uses words like that when something is wrong...like someone died..._"Is my aunt okay?" Harry asked. _I need that protection!_

"As far as I know." Flitwick said. "Please quit worrying. There is nothing wrong." Flitwick said. He opened his office door and ushered Harry in.

Harry stopped two steps into the room and froze. All the Heads of Houses and Dumbledore were in the room. Professor McGonagall and Sprout were seated on little puffy stools. Dumbledore lounged in a loud neon green armchair. Snape stood with his back to a bookcase nearly as tall as he. Flickwick climbed into his chair that had spells on it to adjust the height as needed. There was only one chair left. Harry had a feeling it was for him. The entire conglomeration of chairs formed a circle around a table that held a tea service.

"Please sit down, Harry.' Dumbledore said with a smile. Harry shot a look at Snape. The man's face was tight, but he gave Harry a quick nod to indicate Harry should sit. Harry stepped forward and lowered himself into the seat. "We are all greatly concerned about you, Harry."

"Sir?" _Snape wouldn't have told. No, he'd keep that type of information to himself._

"Yes, quite concerned." Dumbledore said. "Someone told us about one of your dreams...about Sirius Black."

_Good job, Hermione. _"Excuse me, sir. I have a friend to hex." Harry said as he stood. He was shocked when all of the teachers (except Snape) burst into laughter.

"She said you would say that." Dumbledore told him. "She also said that she is not hiding in the library." Harry dropped back into his chair and let out a Russian swear word the twins had taught him when he was sixteen. Harry heard Snape snort from the corner. Oops.

"Now, Mr. Potter." He turned to face McGonagall. "You say that Sirius Black is talking to you in your dreams."

"Do we have to talk about this?" Harry asked. McGonagall gave him that stern look that said: _this is for your own good._ He balked. He never liked that look before and it wasn't any better now.

"I'm afraid we must if you're not sleeping like you should." Dumbledore said with his expression falling into concern.

"Okay." Harry dropped his eyes to study his shoes. _This isn't going how I wanted...but I can work with this._ "It's the same dream over and over."

"We have some pictures for you to look at." McGonagall said as she opened a folder on the table. Harry scooted forward in his chair and picked up the first picture. He went through them slowly, picking up each one, studying it, and then putting it aside. He found it halfway through the pile and stopped.

"That's him." Harry said, pointing at the picture. "That's Sirius Black." Harry stopped and waited.

"Are you sure, Mr. Potter?" McGonagall asked.

"Yes, ma'am." He told her. Harry slid back in his chair and waited. Why in the world would he suddenly stop and point at a picture if he wasn't _sure_ about the identity of the person? Honestly, adults still confused him to this day, even though he was an adult...technically.

"Could you tell us exactly what is in your dream about Sirius Black?" Dumbledore asked. Harry felt something brush against his Occlumency shields, and he frowned.

"What do you want to know?" He asked, massaging his forehead. He wondered how he could get Dumbledore and Snape to stop doing Legillmency on him. It was extremely annoying and downright disturbing when something just nudged on his mind like that.

"Just tell us from the beginning." Dumbledore told him.

Harry stopped and wondered how to start. He hadn't really had a dream like this before...he had made it up when Hermione had confronted him. He wanted Sirius to be freed, but he didn't want to become the center of it all. He wanted Sirius freed as a matter of justice. "I'm alone." He started. _That is true. I _am_ alone. _"I'm not anywhere. No walls, nothing really." He closed his eyes as though it helped him to remember. It was helping him to imagine a dream. "Someone calls my name, and I turn around. I don't have my wand, but I don't feel threatened, not like h-" He stopped. He hadn't meant to say that. "I don't know who he is." He shrugged and sighed. His eyes opened again, and he studied his shoes to avoid looking at anyone. "I sit down for some reason, and he sits down next to me. He knows who I am, but it's not like how everyone knows who I am...he knows _me_."

Harry paused and wondered how to continue. "He says that he was framed, that he wasn't the Secret keeper. The way he says that makes me think being a 'Secret Keeper' is something special." Harry looked up but didn't receive confirmation one way or another. "He says Pettigrew was the Secret Keeper, that they had switched at the last moment. He says that Pettigrew belongs to You-Know-Who, that Pettigrew belongs in Azkaban." Harry stopped for a moment and tried to look innocent. "Azkaban is the wizarding prison. I looked it up. No one belongs there without doing something really wrong."

"After he tells me that, it starts to get cold. Freezing. I can see my breath, and Sirius Black looks scared, but I would be too, after what I hear." Harry said, his voice going hollow. He thought he would get used to hearing his mother scream, but he never had managed to become used to it. It only depressed him more. "I hear someone, a woman, I mean, screaming 'not Harry'. I'm freezing, and she just keeps screaming." He wrapped his arms around himself and fought off the shudders. _You never get used to reliving your worst memory, though I have to wonder what my worst memory is now, after what I've been through._

"Thank you for telling us, Mr. Potter." McGonagall's soft voice said into the heavy silence that had fallen after Harry's narrative.

"You can help him, right?" Harry said quietly as he started to pull himself together. "I don't know who he really is or why something like this is happening to me, but I just can't allow someone who may be innocent to exist with those dementor things." He stood up from his chair. "I've read about them. Imagine your worst memory playing over and over." Harry didn't have to fake his shudder then.

"We'll do what we can." Dumbledore told him. "Madame Pomfrey will have Dreamless Sleeping potion for you when you cannot sleep, Mr. Potter." He told Harry with a smile. "That should guarantee you some good nights of sleep."

"Thank you, sir." Harry told Dumbledore. He ignored Snape's pale face in the corner and left the office.

Dumbledore collapsed backwards into his chair and sighed. "What do you think, everyone?" He said to the room at large.

"That poor dear. What a dream." Professor Sprout said.

"I meant about the dream. Is it a spell, a memory, or something else?" Dumbledore clarified.

"Something else." Snape said when no one else was willing to speak up. "The boy is not much of an actor. I can read his face like a book most of the time, and he wasn't acting." Snape told Dumbledore. "That shivering when he was talking about the dementors was real. Either he's experienced their effects before, or he is telling the truth. I vote for the latter."

"Sirius Black? Innocent?" Minerva sputtered from her stool. "You can't honestly expect us to believe that. He killed thirteen people with a single spell."

"How?" Snape asked. "Black may have been an Auror, but no Auror I know can kill that many people with one spell. How did Black do half the things he is said to have done? We have no real proof save that of eye witnesses who were traumatized at the time and then Obliviated. We don't know half of what happened that day, and the half we do know is tainted by the joy of the Dark Lord's downfall." Snape sneered and pulled his robe around him.

"I'm surprised you're defending the man, Severus." Dumbledore said from his own chair.

"I'm not defending Black, Headmaster. I merely wish to ensure that justice, no matter how ill-deserved by some people, is done." His lips thinned. "May I remind you of justice in my case?" he told Dumbledore.

"I remember quite well, Severus." Dumbledore told him. "Alright, I need everyone to think about those last few days. See if you can remember anything about Peter and Black, anything that might point guilt one way or another." Dumbledore stood and turned to look at his employees. "That is all we can do for now."

* * *

Snape left the office with a headache. Potter was having dreams of dementors? He almost shivered in sympathy. He remembered the effects of dementors all too well. He even dreamed of it from time to time. It was disturbing that an eleven year old was having such dreams.

The dream he had witnessed was not one of dementors. The dream Draco had seen had nothing to do with dementors. In fact, Snape would bet an entire bottle of whiskey that the boy only dreamed of dementors once in a while. The rest, well, he had no idea what to call the rest. 'Disturbing' fit. So did 'unsettling'. 'Frightening' also could be used to describe them.

He entered his quarters in a pensive mood. Dumbledore's instructions to think back had caused Snape to smirk to himself. Why in the world wouldn't Dumbledore fly to the Ministry to demand the man's release? He could do it. Few would stand in the way of Dumbledore's wrath when he summoned it. Unless-he didn't believe the boy. That was a possibility.

_Of course, with what I already know, I believe the boy. I'd take the boy's word over Dumbledore's at this point. Potter hasn't been wrong yet. Every prediction he's made in my presence has come true in some way. He had said the Stone wasn't safe...I caught Quirrell going after it. He had said that a troll would ruin the Feast; it happened. He mentioned that he would leave the castle at Christmas. He left the castle and went to the Malfoys. He even predicted my needing a headache potion that one session, even when no sign of migraine had shown up. If the boy says his dreams tell him that Sirius Black is innocent, then he must be, as loathe as I am to admit it. If Dumbledore doesn't do something soon, then, by the gods, I will!_

* * *

Author's Note: Thanks for reading. I'm off to study for a final. Remember, nothing until after the holidays!


	13. Flying

Author's Note: Hello again! Thanks for hanging in there, guys. Here's the next chapter. Now, I'm off to do homework!

* * *

Harry hit the slightly padded floor of the Room of Requirement and groaned. He had pushed himself a little too far this morning. It didn't happen often; he knew that there would be no one to pick him up should he fall and not be able to move. His teacher had set him on his feet more than once and pushed him to the brink of exhaustion and beyond. Harry batted away thoughts of his teacher. He still wasn't sure how he felt about the man. Yes, the training had been useful and had saved a great many lives (including his own), but the method of instruction left a great deal to be desired. After his teacher had discovered a few things about Harry's past and family, well, he had tried to change and make amends, but the damage had been done.

Harry twitched a finger in an attempt to get up from the floor. He had an hour or so before breakfast started and he wanted to get there first so that he could study and avoid Dumbledore's looks over Harry's eating habits. It was the mystery of the school. He had heard teachers taking bets from each other over which delicacy Harry would turn down on the menu. Every single one of them found it odd that Harry Potter, gifted student and all around good kid, actually loathed sweets.

"Harry, sir!" The voice startled Harry so badly that he almost made it to his feet. "What is wrong with Harry, sir?" Minks wailed from beside Harry.

"I just overdid it, Minks." Harry told him. "Just give me a few minutes and I'll be fine." Harry reassured the elf. Minks sobbed next to him for a few seconds before disappearing. Harry was secretly relieved; house elves crying made him feel very guilty.

Harry only raised an eyebrow when Minks returned with Button, the head of the Castle Elves. "'Lo, Button." Harry said to the elf.

"Harry sir has hurt himself." Button said without a hint of blame in his voice. "Harry sir needs helps."

"I'm-" Harry felt a distinctly odd sensation as Button touched him. "fine." Harry found himself in one of the Ravenclaw bathtubs, already filled with hot water and some kind of oil, if the slick feeling of the water was anything to go by. His sodden clothes disappeared off his body and he felt his body be suspended in the water. He thrashed against the magic until Button rested one of his hands on Harry's head.

"Harry sir should relax," Button told him. "Button and the elves will not let harm come to Harry Potter while the elves take care of Harry sir."

Harry actually stopped moving. He didn't know why, but he trusted Button and the other elves with his safety. Never mind that he couldn't move; Button was there. Harry tried to take deep breaths to fight off the feelings of panic his mind wanted him to have. This was eerily like the restraints Voldemort and his cronies had used a time or two. He jerked in surprise as the magic loosened the slightest bit. He could move now, just not much.

"Button is sorry, Harry sir. Button didn't know about what happened before." The house elf reached down and the water started bubbling much like a Muggle Jacuzzi. It felt wonderful on Harry's abused muscles.

Harry was shocked and only stared at Button's mournful face. "It's okay, Button. You didn't know." Harry smiled at the elf and allowed the magic to hold him in place as the hot water started to relax his muscles. He closed his eyes and sighed as the pain started to melt away.

Button's confidence grew a bit after such an obvious sign of trust from Harry. He ordered the other house elves about with a slight tone of urgency. Serry was called from the kitchen to provide something substantial for breakfast once Harry made it to the Great Hall. Pidgy was sent off to Harry's closet for a full uniform for Harry. Minks rushed off to put together Harry's school things and Button was at the center of it all.

Harry was pulled out of the tub twenty minutes later and found his bathrobe from the Malfoys wrapped around him. He sighed and started stretching his limbs, hoping to stave off too much physical pain. Button allowed him to do what he needed to do for a while and then he handed Harry his school uniform with a look that said _Get dressed._ Harry obeyed the unspoken demand and tried to wrestle his hair into some semblance of order. He scowled at the mirror and sighed. There was no hope for his hair.

Minks stood by with Harry's school bag. Harry took it from him and checked the contents. He smiled when he saw Minks had included everything Harry would need for the day, including extra quills and parchment. "Thank you, Minks. You did very well." Minks let a few tears fall, but only disappeared. Harry had a feeling that Minks was off to cry in the privacy of elf quarters.

Button turned to Harry with a large smile. "Harry sir is now ready for classes." He said happily.

"Yes, Button. Thank you." He patted Button on the head and then regretted it. Adoration lit up in Button's eyes.

"Even adult wizards need to be taken care of, Harry sir. Button and the other elves are happy to do so." Button and the rest of the elves disappeared at that point. Harry had only shaken his head and went down to the Great Hall and the heaping plates Serry sent up. Harry was happy and relaxed for the first time in a long time.

* * *

His relaxation did not last long. That evening found him practically dancing in his chair. He was agitated. He felt like he should be _doing_ something, but he wasn't sure what he should be doing. Something active, obviously, but another session like the one this morning would only cause him more harm than good. His thoughts wandered and so did his eyes until his they fell on the Quidditch Pitch outside. Flying? No, it didn't fit with his persona. Besides, it was getting late, almost curfew. He would get into trouble. _The day you can't sneak around a group of teachers is the day you should turn yourself over to Voldemort. _A voice said in his mind.

He knew who it was; himself, before he returned. His training had been difficult, almost heartbreaking. He had spent most of it either exhausted to the point of illness, crying by himself in the dead of night, or falling onto the ground beneath him, but he knew that he was perfect in every way a soldier should be once he had finished. He didn't fear Death, he was well-acquainted with the way eyes would turn shocked and then glassy as a person fell in death. He had confidence in his training; it would keep him alive until he could defeat Voldemort. His training was telling him to go do something physical, something out of the ordinary.

Physical. Something out of the ordinary. Something he missed sorely. Flying had been forbidden to him once he started his training. It was used only as a means of transportation and nothing else. He had only flown once between the time he was taken for training and Voldemort's victory. That made a total of one time in two years that he had been on a broom.

Harry pushed the thoughts away from him and decided to ignore the feeling. It worked for about five minutes. His leg started bouncing again and he frowned. He stood up and put his things away before sneaking out of the common room and down towards the Pitch. Filch had to be busy elsewhere. He didn't see anyone on his way though the halls.

A quick "Alohamora" released the broom shed doors and Harry picked out the least shoddy looking broom he could find. He took off his outer robe and dropped it on the turf, along with his tie. He folded up his sleeves and mounted the broom with a look that wasn't quite a smile.

He rose into the air and feelings built in him that he had forgotten existed. He smiled fully as the wind ruffled his hair. He hovered in the air above the pitch for a few seconds before dropping into a dive. He watched the ground come closer and his heart sped up to match the speed of the broom. He pulled up at the last moment and felt his toes drag along the grass. _Note to self: This is NOT a Firebolt._ He adjusted to the broom over time and spent a solid hour twisting and turning in the air, flying through the hoops and performing tricks he had made in his youth, missing the two separate watchers on the grounds under the stands.

* * *

Severus Snape listened for any problems as he walked the hallways of the school that night. Children never did listen to the rules and he was going to ensure that the rules were followed. He folded his robes about him in the slight chill that permeated the walls of the Scottish castle and stalked forward. He nearly tripped (not that he would ever admit it) when he happened to glimpse someone flying at the Quidditch Pitch. "Foolish child!" He snapped to the thin air. He pushed back from the window and rushed down the hallway. Now, if only he could get there before the miscreant broke his neck. Perhaps he could take some points...no, lots of points.

He arrived in time to see the figure on the broom drop towards the ground. It only took a second for him to draw his wand and prepare a spell, but the spell was unneeded. The boy on the broom pulled up at the last second and only drifted his toes along the pitch. "This has gone on-" The sentence never made it past the last word; he had caught sight of whom was on the broom. It didn't make sense. It didn't fit into his tidy little world of what he knew: Harry Potter was on a broom. More than that, he was _happy._ The child personified joy while he was flying.

He stepped back into deeper shadows and prepared to wait for the boy to finish. After all, he wasn't hurting anything and this was his first offense...Snape wondered if this meant he was going soft. For a Potter. This just added another dimension of the puzzle known as Potter. The boy touched down sometime later and Snape was about to confront the boy when another voice stopped him. "Why didn't you tell anyone you can fly like that?" _Draco Malfoy. I should have known. _

* * *

Draco Malfoy had had very few experiences where he felt like his heart stopped. In fact, he had had none up until this evening. He was just returning from a study group –actually, it was a small party thrown in honor of the Slytherin who was most creative in cursing Gryffindors- when he saw Harry Potter sneaking around. Now, the sneaking around part didn't bother him; he was one of the most accomplished "sneakers" that year. He had bypassed Filch in the halls too many times to count and hadn't been caught. No, what was really bothering him was that it was _Harry Potter_ sneaking around. After curfew. By himself. _He's just inviting trouble._

Draco Malfoy crept behind the boy and marveled at his skills. He never would have known that Harry was there if he hadn't seen him. He was absolutely silent in the halls as he slipped from one ray of moonlight to the next. Draco was surprised to see Harry leave the school building and make his way towards the Quidditch Pitch. His curiosity peaked as he watched the mysterious eleven year old break into the broom shed. He nearly yelled in surprise when lifted off from the ground and flew as though he was born on a broom. _I'll never believe him again! 'I hate to fly, Draco. I'm afraid of heights!' HA! He won't get out of flying this summer!_

Draco hid himself in shadows and catalogued every single movement Harry made on the broom. It was amazing; why wasn't he recruited for his House team? They should be out here practicing with him to prepare him for next year. Surely someone from his own House would know of his flying abilities. He watched and waited until Harry descended to the ground and put away his broom before he announced his presence to the other boy. "Why didn't you tell anyone you can fly like that?"

* * *

"Why didn't you tell anyone you can fly like that?" A voice demanded from directly behind Harry. He whirled around and brought up his wand, a curse ready on his lips. He froze when he saw the culprit.

"Why do you always surprise me into nearly hexing you?" Harry asked quietly as he put his wand away.

"Harry, your flying is brilliant. You should be on the House team, not skulking about after hours and sneaking in flying." Draco said as he approached the other boy.

"I do not care for Quidditch." Harry told him flatly.

"Just like you're afraid of heights?" Draco bit out. "Why do you hide from it? You're such a good flyer." Draco tried to see Harry's face through the murky darkness.

"Thank you for the compliment, but I'll ask you not to mention it again. Flying is just a sometimes thing for me and I really could care less about being on any sort of team." Harry started walking back towards the castle. He would be lucky if he wasn't caught. _The day you're caught..._Harry pushed that voice away. He didn't care what his teacher had taught him just at that moment. There were some days he couldn't take hearing that man's voice in his head.

"Oh, I'll mention it again!" Draco said as he caught up to Harry. "Loudly and in front of the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain!" Draco promised.

"Sod off," Harry muttered.

Draco Malfoy stopped in shock just inside the doors of the school. "Did you just tell me to 'sod off'?" He asked in a shocked voice.

"I do believe I did." Harry told him.

"Mum's going to be mad at you." Draco told him seriously.

"She's not my mother," Harry said simply. "I don't have to worry about what she will say." Harry gave Draco a look that said 'so there'.

"She will when I tell her that you snuck out at night," Draco Malfoy paused for a breath "and took me with you."

Harry gaped at him in shock. "You wouldn't!" He did like Mrs. Malfoy and he didn't want to upset her...and that would upset her. "That's cruel, Draco."

"Of course, I could forget all about this if you do one little thing," Draco gave Harry a look that promised heavy retribution if things didn't work out his way.

"Blackmail. So typically Slytherin," Harry sneered.

"I'm looking at it as persuasion," Draco commented. "Blackmail is such a nasty word."

"'A rose by any other name..." Harry told the boy. "What do I need to do to stay in your mother's good graces?"

"Stay in your dorm rooms after curfew," A sharp voice said from behind them. Harry winced. He hadn't heard anyone behind him, hadn't felt anything out of the ordinary, nothing. _You, Potter, are having an intense training session tomorrow, to remind you of your surroundings at ALL TIMES!_ Harry turned around to face his professor. "I am severely disappointed in the both of you," McGonagall said. "You were almost lucky; if I hadn't seen Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger sneaking about, well, I wouldn't have caught you." Harry noticed Hermione and Ron standing behind her and wondered what they had been doing out of bed. _Oh, Norbert. That's right._ "I'm especially disappointed in you, Mr. Potter," McGonagall's tirade continued. "You're such an outstanding student. Can you explain why you were outside at this time of night in the freezing cold?"

Cold? Harry hadn't felt cold. "I couldn't sleep, ma'am." He admitted honestly. "I thought a walk would clear my head."

"You should have gone straight to the Hospital Wing for that, Mr. Potter. Not outside," She turned her glare onto Malfoy. "Well?"

"I was following him, to make sure he didn't get hurt or anything." Draco answered. "My mother thinks he's a sleepwalker."

"I am not!" Harry denied.

"She told me to keep an eye on you!" Draco defended his actions. "She was worried."

"It's a conspiracy." Harry muttered darkly to himself. Harry knew that Narcissa Malfoy hadn't told Draco to keep an eye on him. No, Draco was only trying to save his own skin.

"No, it's detention for you lot, to be served this Friday evening. Perhaps that will remind you all of where you should be after curfew," McGonagall looked them all over. "Now, back to your dorms and Merlin help you if I find you out again."

"Yes, ma'am." Harry answered in tandem with the other children. He turned and walked away, heading towards Ravenclaw.

"Harry?" Draco said. "You know that thing I said about sleepwalking was fake, right? We don't really think that about you."

"I know. I can tell when you're lying." Harry said with a smirk. "Just don't try to use the excuse of 'I was protecting Potter' to save your skin again. I don't need your protection."

"Whatever, Harry. I guess I'll see you tomorrow." He paused for a moment. "Are you going to talk to the Quidditch Captain?"

"No." Harry answered shortly before disappearing up a staircase to go to Ravenclaw. Harry Potter, bookworm extraordinaire, playing Quidditch? What a ridiculous idea.

* * *

_Mr. Potter,_

_Please report to my office an hour before your usual time._

_S. Snape_

* * *

Harry reached up a hand and knocked on the laboratory door. It swung open and he entered with a little sigh. He used to hate spending time with Snape before and did anything he could to avoid visiting him. Now, Snape had become a bizarre sanctuary of sorts. The man didn't watch him every second in this room. In fact, he often ignored Harry once he set him to a task of some kind. It was peaceful.

Peace came easier to Harry these days. The pensieve he had received from MacNair made life bearable and toned down his reactions to unexpected events. It had even lessened the nightmares a bit. He still slept under Silencing charms and fought with his sleeping habits, but he was less exhausted these days and more alert to things around him. He felt almost normal. Well, as normal as he could feel.

"Mr. Potter." Snape said with a smirk. "Have a seat." Harry tossed his book bag in its customary corner and dropped onto the stool. "I hear that you have detention this Friday." Snape said as he handed Harry the instructions for the potion.

"Yes, sir." Harry said calmly and took the instructions. He dug into his book bag and rummaged out his Potions journal.

"Sneaking around the school after hours, I hear." Snape finished setting up his cauldron and did not look at him. Sarcastically. "A gross negligence of rules."

Harry studied his toes for a few minutes and wondered if Snape was trying to make him feel guilty. He didn't feel guilty. He had needed something out of the ordinary and that was it. "Yes, sir." Harry felt the path of least resistance was best here.

"Minerva tells me that you couldn't sleep." Snape commented to Harry.

Harry's head snapped up and he stared at Snape in horror. Was the man trying to get Harry to confide in him? What an absurd idea. Harry never confided in anyone...not even Draco or Hermione. It just wasn't done. He kept his own counsel on his feelings. Anything he told Hermione or Draco was crafted for their ears or the ears of someone else through them. Nothing more, nothing less. "Are you trying to get me to confide in you, sir?" Harry had to know.

"Did you have another dream about Black?" Snape asked sharply, his black eyes meeting Harry's own. Harry felt a little tickle that told him Snape was trying to use Legillmency on him. Harry stared Snape down and practically dared him to find a way though the defenses on his mind. The sooner Snape realized that he couldn't get through, the less headaches Harry would have.

"No dreams, sir. Just a slight case of insomnia." Harry said lightly. "Nothing to worry about."

"Mr. Potter, you may believe that insomnia is normal for eleven year old boys, but I must tell you that it is not. If anything, it is the direct opposite. I realize that you are uncomfortable around adults because of the way your relatives treat you, but you must treat this unfortunate inability to sleep before your health becomes affected."

Warning bells rang in Harry's head. "What do you mean by 'the way your relatives treat you', sir?" Harry bit out between his teeth.

"Nothing," Snape answered as he motioned Harry over to the workbench. "You are a very independent young man and they must allow a lot of freedom for you in your choices, hence your inability to ask for help when you need it."

Harry stared at Snape and wondered exactly what Snape was up to. Snape never did anything without a good reason or motivation. "Yes, sir." He answered, moving his attention back to his potion.

"You will see Madame Pomfrey the next time you suffer from insomnia, yes?" Snape stated more than asked.

"Yes, sir." Harry answered again as he wrote down the potion's procedure.

"Good." Snape appeared ready to say something else, but obviously thought better of it and turned back to his own preparations.

Harry smiled to himself as he ducked his head to count out his ingredients. He didn't feel like dealing with inquiries from Snape today. He reached out for his mortar and nearly died from shock when someone grabbed his shoulder. He spun around to face his attacker and brought up his hands to protect his head.

"Even you must admit that your behavior is not normal." Snape's voice said as Harry's heart rate returned to normal.

"Normal?" Harry asked as he calmed his breathing. "I think it's perfectly normal when a person is grabbed like that!" He stepped away from Snape and considered the man motivations. "Perhaps this is not a good day, sir." Harry said as he started to pack up his things. "Another time, perhaps." Harry said as he shut his Potions journal. "I honestly don't know what you think I should tell you, sir." Harry said after a few minutes of contemplation. "You're looking for answers I can't give you."

"Can't?" Snape latched onto the word. "Or won't?" Snape demanded with a glint in his eyes. They had played the 'can't or won't' game before after one of Harry's nightmares. Harry took a deep breath and grabbed his bag as he made his way to the door. "Do not walk out that door, Mr. Potter. We haven't finished here yet."

Harry stopped without turning around, his hand frozen on the doorknob. "I am not violating school rules at this moment. Our conversation has steered into the personal; I am under no obligation to violate my own privacy."

Harry jumped as a heavy hand landed on his shoulder. He hadn't heard the man move! He tried to jerk away from it, but the hand followed him. Snape turned him around slowly and dropped to one knee in front of him. Harry stared at Snape. He had never seen this man in such a position before. Snape studied Harry for a few minutes before speaking again. "Po- Harry." Harry kept his face blank. "I realize that I've come on a little strong about this. I didn't mean to frighten you or demand that you give up your privacy. You're hurt. You're being harmed by someone." Harry opened his mouth to deny it, but Snape held up one finger for Harry to wait. The gesture was so far from Snape's usual methods that he froze. "Yes, Harry. You are being harmed. We both know it. I had hoped that you trusted me enough to tell me who is doing such a horrible thing; I was mistaken. I don't want you to feel that you can't talk to me, or that our Potions sessions will stop, or that I'll use what I know against you or anything similar. I'll give you the time you need or want, but I do want you to try to tell me who is hurting you. Eventually. That's the only way we can stop it."

Harry stared at Snape. He idly wondered if this was what the man would have been like if he had chosen Slytherin all those years ago when the Sorting Hat had suggested it. Would Snape still have been so supportive? Would Snape have fought for Harry? Would Snape have listened to three frantic first years about the Philosopher's Stone? The possibilities of what _could have been_ rattled through him and he shuddered. His teacher's voice shouted in his mind that he couldn't waste time on _might have beens_. He shoved that voice out of his head and mulled over what Snape had said. His professor was waiting for an answer. Harry felt the hand on his shoulder squeeze slightly in a reassuring manner. Snape was really trying to tell Harry that it was okay, that he was there for Harry and no other reason. The mind boggled. Harry reached up his own hand and rested it on Snape's hand before he nodded. He couldn't say anything.

"Good." Snape said. The approval in that voice made Harry feel as though _something_ had passed between the two of them. He just wasn't sure what. Snape led him back towards the workbench and motioned Harry to continue with his preparations. Harry picked up where he had left off and soon found himself immersed in the fumes of potion-making. He relaxed, little by little, and produced an acceptable Pepper-Up Potion. He bottled it up and labeled the bottles according to Snape's instructions. He was about to ask permission to leave when Snape stopped him.

"I have something for you." Snape said in a neutral voice as he moved to a shelf and pulled out a book. "This is a journal, Potter." Snape said as he handed it to Harry. "Some people are unable to talk about things that have happened to them, but they are able to write it down. Will you try to do so?" Snape asked.

"Yes, sir." Harry said as he looked over the book. It had a plain brown leather cover and the pages were creamy white. His name was written in the front cover. "Thank you."

Snape only nodded and went back to his potion, dismissing Harry from his station. Harry left and started back to the Ravenclaw dormitory. He knew that he would use the journal. Now he needed a way to keep others from reading it.

* * *

Later that evening, Snape pulled out an identical copy of the journal and opened it, hoping to see something that would give him some insight into dealing with the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Annoy-Him. He stared at the page in front of him and wondered exactly what the boy thought he was doing. This wasn't writing; this was scribbles and marks. Nothing legible graced five full pages of the journal. There even appeared to be a splotch or two where liquid of some kind had fallen and smeared the ink...not that the markings were legible. He slammed the book shut and snarled. The worst part of this situation was that he couldn't even confront the boy and demand answers! That would tell the child that Snape had a copy of the journal and could see what was written. _I hate my life sometimes._ Snape thought as he tossed the journal into his desk drawer and locked it. _Onto Plan B...whatever that might be._

* * *

Author's Note: My thanks goes out to the awesome beta: you know who you are! Also, to the wonderful people who answered my plea for German help. If you have any questions, drop me a review or head to the forums. Thanks for reading!_  
_


	14. Magical Creatures

Author's Note: I'm still not happy with this chapter, but my fabulous beta, MimiTaylor, put things into perspective for me. Thanks to all for waiting patiently.

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Hedwig wheeled in around the other owls and dropped a square package in front of Harry. She settled next to Harry's plate and preened. "You're such a clever owl," Harry told her as he started to scratch her head. He offered a piece of Terry's bacon and allowed her to devour it as he started to open his package.

He knew he wasn't 'right in the head' as his Muggle relatives liked to say, but he also knew that Muggles were far ahead in understanding the human mind than wizards. They had to have a name for what was wrong with him and some method of treatment. Hopefully something he could do on his own.

He slid the book into his book bag and ignored the weird looks Terry was giving him. He could care less if the other boy thought he was strange. Flourish and Blotts had been very excited to help Harry with his special "project" comparing Muggle and magical health care and gladly procured the book for Harry for a nominal fee. Harry felt it was well-worth the money.

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Harry sequestered himself in the library after classes were over and pulled out his new psychology book. There _had_ to be a name for what was wrong with him. There just had to be. Once he managed to name it, he could then find a way to combat it. He dearly hoped that he could find a way to fight this, what ever this was. People were noticing. _Let's be real, Potter. People are _concerned _and that is what scares you more._ Harry told the voice in his head to shut up. He needed to concentrate on his book.

He skipped the chapters that didn't have much relevance. Yes, it was interesting to read how the brain was put together and why certain things happened, but he was more interested in what was wrong with him than anything else.

The sun was just starting to set when Harry emerged from his book a few hours later. He pushed the book away from him, shut it, and lowered his head to the table in front of him. He had to fight to keep from banging his head off the table. It was very tempting. He had no way to fix this problem on his own. None at all. He would actually need therapy. With another person!

He took a deep breath to calm down and rummaged in his satchel for his journal. He laid it on the table and brought out his wand. A quick look around assured him that no one watching him. He removed his glasses and tapped each of his eyes with his wand, opened his journal, and then tapped the next page with his wand.

_I have something wrong with me that I can't fix on my own. I think I do, anyway. The psychology book symptoms are either Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, which is common among people who have experienced something, well, traumatic. Gee, I wonder what could have traumatized me. Hmm. My whole life? Of course, he would say that I shouldn't pity myself, as it serves no purpose. He's right, isn't he? I shouldn't feel sorry for myself._

_How do I fix this? I can't continue on like this, jumping at every shadow and loud noise. People are starting to become suspicious. Snape, especially. And the Malfoys, which is just not right, considering what happened before. I hate not having answers. It's very frustrating. Extremely frustrating. It almost makes me angry. No, not angry. Furious. It is almost as though someone did something to me without my knowing about it__and then told me not to worry about it. Or something like that. I'm too confused to think anymore. That, and I have dinner and then a detention. I still can't believe that I have detention. I can't believe that I was caught! If it hadn't been for that Malfoy...I'll stop those thoughts now._

Harry tapped the pages with his wand again and then tapped his eyes before putting his journal away. That privacy spell had come in handy, just like his teacher told him it would, although the man had meant it for keeping orders and strategies hidden from the rest of the world. Oh well. This fit into Harry's privacy issues. After all, he wrote about everything in this journal. It wouldn't do for someone like...Rita Skeeter finding it and writing that Harry Potter is a nutter...never mind.

Harry gathered his belongings and went downstairs to the Great Hall. He knew the house elves would hunt him down if he didn't appear at dinner, and then he would be forced to eat by a far too cheerful Serry. She and Professor Snape had a conspiracy going, he was sure of it. He just needed proof to blackmail them both into stopping. Then, Serry would cry and he would feel bad. _Note to self: STOP THINKING!_

"Harry?" A voice said from in front of him. "I don't know what that particular patch of stone did to you, but I'm sure it's really sorry." Harry looked up and saw Draco Malfoy standing next to him. He had been glaring at the stone wall outside the Great Hall.

"It should be," Harry said darkly.

"Uh-huh. Well, dinner and then detention." Draco said, steering Harry into the Great Hall. "I've heard we're going to detention with the half-breed tonight." Draco said as he pulled Harry over to the Slytherin table.

"Pardon?" Harry asked. He had heard that moniker applied to many people over the years. His brain scrambled to identify exactly which half-breed Draco could be talking about.

"That gamekeeper," Draco answered as Harry's plate appeared, and he started filling his own. "Do you always have a fully prepared meal just appear in front of you?" Draco asked.

"Yes. Every time. And you shouldn't call Hagrid a half-breed. His parents' actions aren't his fault."

"Did you notice that you seem to collect the dregs of society?" Draco asked with his father's tone of voice.

"Did you notice that you sounded a lot like your father just now?" Harry returned as he pondered the wisdom of leaving the spinach on his plate. He wasn't too fond of the vegetable. He had eaten it before because he'd had no choice, not with his teacher looming over his every meal for a straight month. But, did that mean he _had_ to eat a vegetable he didn't like now?

He decided to ignore the spinach and turned to Draco. "Besides, Hagrid spends a lot of time out in the Forbidden Forest. I bet he knows all about it."

"What are you getting at?" Draco asked.

"He might know something useful he could teach us later on, Draco. It's not wise to limit resources by clinging to prejudice."

"You know something, Harry?" Draco said as he started on his pudding.

"I know many things, but I suppose you're going to mention something in particular." Harry smirked at Draco.

"Well, yes. That."

"That?"

"You have this adult way of talking. It doesn't happen often, but when it does, I have to wonder how old you are."

Harry raised an eyebrow and shook his head. Draco was canny, there was no doubt. It was just a little unnerving. "I read," he whispered. "Try it sometime. You learn all sorts of big words."

"Prat," Draco snorted.

"Snob," Harry told Draco. "What time is our detention?"

"In about five minutes. We're supposed to meet in the hallway next to the main doors." Draco said as he removed the napkin from his lap and stood. "Ready?" he asked.

Harry stopped and stared at the spinach left on his plate. "Definitely," He didn't see the Potions professor smirking at the Head table.

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_What person in their right mind would send eleven year old children into the Forbidden Forest where an unknown entity is consuming unicorn blood?_ Harry thought as Draco stumbled through the undergrowth behind him with the ease of a two year old; elephants would have made less noise. Harry was a little quieter. He could have performed better, but suddenly becoming ghostly silent in the forest with Draco beside him would only end badly...with Malfoian suspicions raised and catalogued in Draco's mind, and that was something Harry did not want any time soon.

"What are we supposed to be looking for again?" Draco asked irritably, the lantern he was holding casting light in several directions.

Harry averted his eyes from the light to protect his night vision. _Artificial light hinders more than helps, soldier. It can take anywhere from ten to sixty seconds for eyesight to correct itself...double if it's night and you're trying to see into the night. Light also tells your enemy exactly where you are. Weapons are two-way, soldier; if you can use it against someone, they can use it against you._

"Unicorn blood," Harry answered shortly. "You needn't look into the branches, Draco. What we're looking for is on the ground."

"You sound as if you're enjoying this," Draco accused.

Harry didn't respond. He _was_ enjoying this, in a way. Forest maneuvers were the only times he had been free during his training, out from under those soulless eyes, the coercion magic and bonds, the few times he felt like himself since entering training. His teacher had complained that Harry was harder to control once he had returned to normal exercises, less likely to follow orders. He had threatened to stop such training more than once and would have followed through on it, _if_ Harry's results in a forested setting hadn't been phenomenal each time. The survival instructor had borrowed him at least four times to show others "how it was done". He'd broken time records for the training, or so his teacher had said. Harry still wasn't sure if the man had been joking or not.

A gasp from his right made him turn and look at Draco as warning signals started going off in his mind. There was something else there. Draco's skin somehow managed to grow several shades paler. "Dra-," Harry hadn't time to continue beyond that; Draco had dropped his lantern and fled.

The forest seemed to ripple around him and centaurs melted out of the foliage around him.

"We have waited for your return, Chosen One." One centaur said as he stepped forward. The entire circle closed in around him. He felt his alarms increase; the situation was becoming extremely dangerous. It was time to go. "We could never hurt you." This centaur appeared to be the leader of the group, for the whole circle stopped moving at a look from him. "You have given up much to return here, and we have much to repay." The voice sounded hypnotic as it spoke in a steady cadence. Harry blinked. There was something else going on here. Harry watched as the centaur came closer to him. He backed up a few paces and drew his wand. The centaur only raised an eyebrow and Harry felt strong hands take hold of his arms. His teacher would be bellowing in his grave. He had backed up into them! He started to fight his way out of their grasp when he heard a sharp "No!" and something dull and heavy knocked him on the back of his head.

His vision went gray and he dropped to his knees. His limbs refused to obey any signals to get up and run. He wanted to curl his suddenly free arms around his head and moan. He did moan and found that it only hurt his head worse. He felt someone pick him up and hold him in their arms. He tried to move, say something, raise his wand. Nothing happened. He felt the person holding him jump over something. The movement jostled his head, and his vision went from gray to black as he lost his fight to stay conscious.

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Draco Malfoy knew running away was a cowardly thing to do, but he had thought that Harry would have _some_ sense of self-preservation. It appeared that he was wrong. Harry Potter was courting death with open arms. Draco didn't want to waste time with Hagrid; Harry could be in deep trouble. No, Draco needed a full wizard. He dashed through the castle and down to the dungeons. Snape was the only one suited for something like this. Draco checked the office first and then moved on to the Potions lab. He found his teacher there. "Harry's been taken by the centaurs!" He gasped out as he doubled over for breath.

"WHAT?" Snape roared. He banished the contents of his cauldron, dismissed the flame and barreled towards the door. He paused in the hallway and sent a Patronus to the Headmaster and then one to Flitwick. "Come, Draco. You must show me where." Snape flew down the corridor, and Draco jogged behind him.

The forest was just as menacing as the first time he had entered it. He couldn't see how Harry enjoyed himself here. He led Professor Snape back to the clearing.

Snape used Lumos to look around. His face grew tighter with each passing moment. "There looks to have been a great deal of them," Snape said slowly. "Almost an even twenty for a mere whelp of a boy." He snarled to himself. He paused and sent another Patronus off towards the castle to let Dumbledore know where he was. "Draco, did they have any weapons with them?" He asked.

"I don't know," Draco said slowly. "I didn't get a good look at them. I couldn't be sure."

"You have _eyes_. _What did you see?_" Snape growled at the blonde.

Draco shut his eyes and tried to think back. He opened them and went over to the spot where he dropped the lantern. "I was here. Some of the centaurs appeared there." He pointed towards the trees in front of him. "None of those carried weapons, I'm sure of it, except the one in the middle. He did. A bow. It was across his back, though, not in his hands."

"Well, if they wanted Potter dead, things would have been different," Snape commented. He looked around where Draco was standing. "It looks like there was a bit of a scuffle." He mused as he stared at the torn up ground. _And a body hitting that ground._ He looked up as Dumbledore and the rest of the professors entered the clearing.

"Potter's been taken by centaurs. They came in force for him. I have no idea why. We must find him." Snape told his colleagues. A few seemed bewildered by the idea that Severus Snape was concerned about the Boy Who Lived, but all brushed it off as they paired off to search the forest. Dumbledore called Fawkes and scribbled off a message to the Head Boy and Girl before joining the search by pairing with McGonagall.

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Harry wasn't exactly sure _when_ the world had gone mad without his notice. He didn't even care about why. He just wanted it to stop. Of course, things wouldn't seem so bad if he hadn't been hit over the head and dragged off against his will, wherever he was. The centaurs had apologized about the hitting over the head bit. Apparently, that had not been a part of their plan. Expedience was the buzz word, and one of the younger centaurs had taken it a bit too far...or so they said. Harry wasn't sure if he should believe them or not. It all depended on how much trouble he got into over this little disappearance in the forest. In his defense, he wouldn't have been in the Forbidden Forest, since it was FORBIDDEN, if he hadn't been sent there for detention. He was supposed to be a _first year student_.

Now, here he sat in the middle of a circle of centaurs, almost a full twenty-four hours after he had been taken. He could almost see the letter Dumbledore would write to the Dursleys.

_Dear Mr. and Mrs. Dursley,_

_It is my sad duty to inform you that your nephew, Harry James Potter, has disappeared. We will inform you if he is found._

_Sincerely,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

The sad thing would be the amount of joy they would feel over a letter like that. Harry shook his head to himself and was glad when he felt no pain. The centaurs' healer was ten times more territorial than Madame Pomfrey, and Harry had been the only patient in months. The head centaur had practically smuggled Harry away from her.

Something big was supposed to happen tonight. The centaurs hadn't told him anything, but he could feel it. There was an expectant air about them. That, and the dress robes and presence of the house elves kind of gave it away.

His entire contingent was there, bustling about the clearing in excited giddiness. They were trying to clean the grass at the moment. Harry had tried to tell them it wouldn't work, but Serry had only asked if "Harry, sir" wanted more to eat or drink. He had kept quiet after that. He didn't want a house elf watching him eat when he wasn't hungry. It almost physically hurt to see the disappointment in their eyes. They acted as though Harry being carted off by centaurs was completely normal, and they weren't worried in the least for his safety. Their lack of concern had put him at ease a little, but he was still worried that something might happen.

They were blatantly a part of this kidnapping plot. Button had greeted the head centaur as an old friend and proudly presented Harry with his dress robes and entire basket of things the house elves thought Harry might need, everything from his comb and toothbrush to some of his schoolbooks. He held his Potions book as a token of thanks to the elves, but he couldn't concentrate to read. Something about this entire situation, aside from the kidnapping bit, just seemed off. His instincts were telling him that he should be fighting to get away and back to safety, but the other half of him was saying that he was safe where he was, thank you very much, and wasn't the presence of the centaurs relaxing? It just didn't make sense.

He was pretty much ignored for the most part, though the minute he finished off his food or drink, one of the centaurs would signal the house elves and the whole cycle of "let's feed Harry" would begin again. The old story of _Hansel and Gretel_ popped in his head, and he smirked in amusement. Centaurs didn't eat the young, of course, but it was a funny thought.

They still hadn't told him why he was there, or why dress robes and a house elf hair stylist was needed. A house elf Harry had never seen before had popped up, done something to his hair to make it lie flat, and then disappeared before Harry could thank him. He fought against the instinct to run his hands through his hair and sighed. He was frustrated. Every time he asked a centaur why he was there, the centaur would only smile and tell him that everything would start in time. Every time Harry stood up, twenty centaur heads would turn and stare at him until he sat down again. Harry was sure that this had to be the oddest kidnapping/hostage situation he had ever heard of, much less experienced.

He put down his Potions book and picked up a history book. He startled when he saw a person standing close to him he had not noticed before. The book dropped back into the basket and Harry shot a quick glance around to see if anyone else had noticed him.

"Aiden, good of you to make it," the head centaur, called Jeachen, said as he stood from his position on the ground and made his way over to the man.

"Such an invitation could never be dismissed or ignored," 'Aiden' said as he bowed to the centaurs. "You were right about him." Aiden gestured at Harry. "The others are on their way as we speak. All are most anxious to help him in any way we can."

"We'll need your skills with the mind, I'm sure," Jeachen led Aiden away from the group, and Harry stared after them.

He looked around and noticed a centaur watching him. "Who was that?" He asked the watching centaur.

"Aiden, Lord of the Vampiric Council," the centaur said with a slight smile. "The entire council is on their way here."

"Why?" Harry was pleased at his first straight answer from the centaurs and hoped the trend would continue.

"You shall see," the centaur said as he stood and walked away from Harry.

Harry fought the urge to toss his book at the retreating centaur and settled back against the odd seat the centaurs had given him. It felt like a pillow, but was shaped as a chair. He wondered idly if he could get one for the Ravenclaw common room, as it had to be the most comfortable seat Harry had ever sat in. He leaned his head back and sighed as he closed his eyes. He opened them again when he felt someone staring at him.

He looked up to see a woman studying him from across the clearing. She merely smiled at him and went to join Jeachen and Aiden. _I never thought I would say this about a hostage situation, but I am so bored._ He had nothing to do and the appearance of others did nothing to help alleviate his boredom. Harry had a feeling that the entire council of vampires should mean he was in danger, but the centaurs had assured him that he was safe and he believed them.

Other creatures started appearing. He recognized many. Gnomes, grindylows (though he had to wonder how they survived out of the water), jobberknolls, mermaids (a magical bubble that reminded Harry of a fishbowl surrounded them), imps, abraxans, banshees (thankfully silent), nifflers, clabberts, thestrals, goblins, Red Caps, Crups (they appeared to be overjoyed by Harry's presence, as they acted like the dogs they resembled and leapt all over him until Jeachen stepped in), and so many others that the clearing eventually resembled a magical creatures pet shop.

Harry was surprised that Jeachen had greeted the vampires with such congeniality. He had thought that centaurs didn't like vampires, but he supposed his textbooks could have been wrong about that. He looked up at the men and women coming through the trees now and his heart leapt. Remus was here! Remus Lupin had studied Harry for a moment before turning his attention to the centaurs greeting the group he was with. What could that possibly mean? Harry stood up and started to go over to them when an arm reached out and held him back.

"It would be bad to lose you in this crowd, Harry Potter," the centaur said with a regretful look. "You have to admit, some of the creatures here would not remember that you are protected if you appeared in their midst alone."

"Am I in danger?" he asked, just a little put out at having his movement restricted like this.

"Not so long as you stay here and do not go out into that mess," the centaur said as he removed his arm from Harry.

"Fine," Harry moved back to his pillow chair and pretended he wasn't sulking as he studied the creatures in front of him. The Crups were beside themselves with doggy glee as they jumped up and down in place. Harry knew that Crups loved wizards, but he hadn't thought they would be this crazy. Harry nearly leapt to his feet as a Grim strode into the clearing and gave an imperial look about him. Harry knew it wasn't his godfather and pondered the presence of a Grim, which technically wasn't even alive.

The group Remus was with studied the Grim with a little fear in their expressions. Remus just looked amused. Harry then made the connection that he was looking at a group of werewolves. He wanted to hit himself for missing the obvious.

Harry jumped as the entire tribe of Acromantulas poured into the clearing before being directed to an open space by a centaur. What was this, the United Nations of Magical Creatures? A few more additions came into the clearing (griffin, wood-nymph, and some hags) and it appeared that the meeting was starting to come to order, whatever this meeting was supposed to be. Harry nearly leapt out of his skin when he heard a dragon's roar go up somewhere very close to his left. A few minutes later, the trees in the Forbidden Forest actually _moved_ to accommodate ten dragons. Then again, if Harry was a tree, he would gladly move out of the way of a dragon. In fact, his body was telling him that running was his only option, except that a centaur was giving him a "don't be silly" look. What were they doing, reading his mind?

Harry shivered and wondered why it was suddenly becoming colder. He took another breath and he identified the cause. Dementors were coming. He pulled out his wand and looked around, ready to fight them off. He didn't want to relieve his worst memory, thanks so much. In fact, he wasn't even sure what his worst memory was anymore. He didn't want to find out.

He felt something wrap around him and the cold feeling disappeared. He looked down at himself but couldn't see anything. He looked up at his guard/jailer and the centaur actually smirked at him. "Just a bit of our magic, Harry Potter," he said in a smug tone.

Harry watched the Dementors come in, greet Jeachen, and then move to the corner they were assigned. It appeared that the magic extended to their corner as well, as the werewolves were not having any adverse effects from the dementors.

Harry saw the last of the magical creatures settled into a spot and almost smirked. _This meeting should have been held at the Quidditch Pitch._ He turned his attention to Jeachen as the centaur moved to the front of the gathered creatures and held up one of his hands for attention.

"Thank you all for coming on such short notice. I am honored to see so many of you with less than two days' notice," Harry's eyes narrowed. _I bet they kept me asleep as long as they could, just to keep me here!_ "Our guest of honor is here and has returned to fulfill his destiny." Harry wondered exactly who the centaur was talking about. "Harry Potter, please stand and come here."

Harry's eyes grew wide as he fought his shock and forced his body to obey the command. He had figured that he had something to do with this meeting, that he was the focus, but he hadn't been prepared to be the object of such intense focus. He felt extremely uncomfortable and wanted to melt into the background.

"My friends and fellow creatures, you see the problem?" Jeachen asked as he looked around. Heads nodded everywhere, from the werewolves to the dragons.

"What problem?" Harry hissed to Jeachen.

"You have two minds, Harry Potter, warring with each other. We can help you stop that." Jeachen told him.

"I don't understand," Harry said as Jeachen motioned to someone off to the side.

The centaur moved until Harry could see only him and smiled at Harry. "No more waking dreams, Harry Potter. No more screaming nightmares or jumping at slight noises. No more problems. Just Harry Potter."

Jeachen moved aside and Harry say the vampire called Aiden directly in front of them. "Please relax, Master Potter, our Chosen One. This should not cause you any pain."

Harry only had time to process that this was not a situation he wanted to be in and his eyes had widened in response right before he felt a deep lethargy settle over his body, and he fell limp, only to drop into someone's arms. They settled his body into his pillow chair and some kind of spell held him in place as _something_ started happening to him. He was awake, and aware, but unable to move a finger or say a word. A member of each group had come up to him at one point or another and done something to him. He couldn't tell what they were doing exactly, as his mind wasn't keeping up to the speed with which they did everything. His face was washed several times as the night wore on and a cup of something light and fruity was offered which tasted like nothing else Harry had ever had before. He just sat in his chair and fought his way to full consciousness. Every time he started getting close, Aiden would make another appearance, and Harry's body would sink back into happy lethargy.

This was almost like the time some Death Eaters had fed him a hallucinogen before starting in on their "fun". They had laughed at Harry, toyed with him, and made Harry completely miserable while he tried to fight against the effects of the substance in his body. This, while similar, was different. He felt safe, protected, and at ease. He almost hated it, but also loved it at the same time. He could not identify the last time he had felt this way.

He tried to smile when Remus himself dropped to one knee before Harry and placed a hand on Harry's head. Actually, he tried to throw himself at Remus and cling tightly, but his body didn't do more than twitch as Remus mumbled some words, smiled at Harry, and patted his cheek before moving away. Harry's heart ached for a second; Remus had done that right before he had died.

The feeling melted away and Harry saw a Dementor in front of him. The Dementor only laid a hand on the top of Harry's head before moving away. It was odd, but Harry was grateful that nothing else had happened.

The centaurs were gathered over in one corner of the clearing and had circled around something. Harry couldn't see what was going on and found that his body really didn't care. A Crup had curled up in his lap and was enjoying a nap. Harry's tired eyes rose to meet the sight a dragon standing over him. He found he had no feelings about this event and only blinked when the dragon rested a light claw on the top of his head for a second before leaving. He hadn't even felt it.

Harry started dozing. Every once in a while, he would open his eyes to a new creature in front of him, and he would only close his eyes again. He knew, instinctively, that nothing there would harm him. He managed a vague smile for the current visitor, a goblin that looked somewhat familiar, before he drifted off to sleep again.

He woke up again when he felt someone holding his head. His eyes met the eyes of Aiden, and he felt each one of his Occlumency walls fall. He could sense Aiden sorting through his head and rearranging something. It had to be the oddest feeling Harry had ever had. _It is a night of firsts, isn't it, young one?_ Harry heard inside his head, followed by a long string of laughing. _Magical Creature Cooperation. It sounds like a fairy tale._ The vampire started laughing again as he continued going through Harry's head. It felt different, lighter in a way, the longer the vampire stayed in Harry's thoughts. _There we are._ The vampire left Harry's head and smiled down at him. "No more flashbacks, hmm?" He told Harry as he laid Harry's head back against the pillow chair.

"Rest, young one. Your part is finished now and we must hurry if we are to miss the dawn."

The vampires all rushed over to the centaurs still gathered in the corner. Harry studied the group before drifting off to sleep again.

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He woke when he heard birdsong in the trees. He looked around and discovered that he was back in his school uniform and that his dress robes had disappeared along with the rest of his personal belongings. Jeachen was standing next to him. "How do you feel, Harry Potter?"

"A little upset," Harry answered honestly. "What did you do to me?" Harry was still tired and only wanted to go back to sleep, but his rational side was demanding answers.

"Your mind and body were not dealing well with all of the excess knowledge and memories you have," Jeachen said quietly. "We creatures knew the instant you returned and have watched for warning signs of permanent damage. The house elves told us about your actions and condition at the school. We only wished to help you, Harry Potter. Did we not?"

Harry stopped and closed his eyes to his Occlumency. His mind felt less full now, less stretched at the seams. He felt his body lifted up and he squirmed to get out of the grip as his eyes opened. Jeachen smiled at him. "No more reactions of a soldier when you are not in a dangerous situation." Jeachen said. "The knowledge is there, as are the skills and the memories, but they will only appear when you need them, and not during a test or meal. Much more convenient, yes?"

"You still could have warned me," Harry said as he shivered in the early morning cold.

"Then you would not have let us help you," Jeachen said as he placed Harry on his feet and wrapped a thick blanket around him. "We all know of your pride and strength, Chosen One. We only wished to help." Harry watched as the centaur opened a small package and pulled out a very innocent looking amulet. "This was made for you by all of the magical creatures you saw. This gives you protection. No matter where in the world you are, the creatures will know and protect you from anyone who wishes to harm you."

"You didn't have to do that," Harry said in protest.

"Just try and stop them," Jeachen said as he slipped the cord around Harry's neck and tightened it. He mumbled a word and the cord became seamless. "Or try to take that off. It is indestructible. It is yours."

"Thank you," Harry tried to look down at the tiny charm that hung in the hollow of his throat and discovered he couldn't see it.

"It is time to return you to the school," Jeachen said. "Would you prefer to ride or that I carry you?"

"You want me to ride you?" Harry asked. He knew what centaurs thought of humans riding them.

"Hmm, yes." Jeachen reached down and picked Harry up. It was odd, Harry decided, riding a horse-like creature without anything to hold onto. Especially when he was so tired. He blinked his eyes to keep himself awake and it almost worked, until Jeachen stopped and took Harry from his back and into his arms. "Just rest. I sense one of your teachers is not far from here,"

"Not Quirrell," Harry said as he relaxed into the centaur's hold.

"No, not the possessed one," Jeachen said. "Not him."

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Snape was ready to start blasting the foliage that surrounded him. That, or set fire to the entire lot. He was almost convinced that the Forbidden Forest was actively hampering the search for the Potter boy. If he ever found out if that was true, there wouldn't be a splinter left when he was finished with it. Not even a splinter. He was ready to start cursing in English, and not the French he was currently using, when he noticed the presence of a centaur. His eyes narrowed in on the person the centaur was carrying, and he felt that the forest was safe from annihilation...for now.

"Harry Potter is safe," the centaur said.

"Why did you take him?" Snape asked as he accepted the sleeping boy from the centaur's arms.

"Expedience," the centaur said simply. "He will be extremely tired for the next seven days or so. Allow him to sleep as much as he likes, and feed him while he is awake. He will suffer no lasting effects past seven days."

"What did you do to him?" Snape asked as he studied the sleeping boy in his arms. Potter certainly looked peaceful.

"Gave him back his life," the centaur said as he walked away. "We only helped him." Snape looked around but found no trace of where the centaur had disappeared to. Perhaps the Forbidden Forest wasn't safe for long...

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Author's Note 2: Sorry to everyone that thought the writing in the journal was Parseltongue. I wanted a spell...it becomes important later on! - EL.


	15. Who's the Mastermind?

Author's Note: Sorry for the long wait, guys. It just wasn't working for me, but here it is! I hope this explains a few things some of you brought up in reviews.

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"And people say that _vampires_ are manipulative," Aiden said from where he lounged on a branch near Jeachen's head.

"I haven't the slightest clue what you mean by that statement," Jeachen said as he watched the human professor leave the forest.

"Oh?" Aiden dropped from the branch to the ground to stand in front of Jeachen. "So, that whole 'toy with his mind to keep him from seeing you until his little friend took off' trick wasn't manipulative? The mind trick you asked me to do wasn't manipulative? Or-?"

"Thank you, Aiden. That's enough," Jeachen said tightly as he turned and started back towards the others. "I'll admit that I used magic on his mind until we were directly on top of him and he couldn't get away. The rest was only things that needed to be done to insure that he wouldn't kill himself before the end of the year."

Aiden walked beside the centaur and thought about the last sentence for a moment. "You think he's a suicide risk?"

Jeachen only raised an eyebrow before nodding.

"Why is he so important? How did he return?" Aiden asked in frustration. "You've been leading on all of us about how he is the last great hope, but you haven't deigned to explain what that means to all of the creatures," Aiden burst out, frustrated at the dearth of information. "Why call the creatures? Why now? Why for him?"

"He holds the future in his hands. As to how he returned...we don't know." Jeachen pushed a branch out of his way and jumped over a log. "The stars told us when he died and when he returned." Jeachen sighed and looked over at Aiden. "There is not much more that I can tell you, for I don't know the entire story myself."

"I hope you and the others don't believe that our cooperation now means that we have aligned the Vampiric Council with a wizard," Aiden said in a serious voice. "That's the last thing we want. Yes, his situation intrigues us, but we do not wish to become the puppets or playthings of any wizard. We cannot forget past wrongs and persecution because of an interesting development in one wizard."

"We are not asking that of you. Neither is he. In fact, I think that Harry Potter would be appalled if you felt in any way obligated to protect him. The only reason we included everyone is that we needed the power. We couldn't make the protections without that power the magical creatures united could provide." Jeachen smirked a little. "I think the wizards themselves would be quite distressed to hear that every magical creature gave Harry Potter a little power to allow the protections to be set."

"Protections against non-humans, which is just as good as saying protection against us!" Aiden spat out in fury.

"Yes and no," Jeachen said. "None of the creatures will hurt him. They will not fight with him, but they will not harm him. All creatures are neutral until they choose otherwise. Does that agree with you, Aiden?"

"Yes, of course. The last thing the Council wants is an accord with the Boy-Who-Lived."

"Do you know of what haunts this forest at night?" Jeachen said somberly.

"I have heard rumors of his return...we all have. Killing unicorns, if I'm not mistaken." Aiden folded his hands behind his back and studied Jeachen out of the corner of his eye.

"You heard correctly. He is here and he will not stop until he has regained a form and his power," Jeachen announced. "He is neither human nor creature. He is the reason for the protections, not anything or anyone else. We must ensure Harry Potter's survival until the defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

"I can't say that I will do more than I have already done. I suppose it all depends on the Council and what they decide to do for Harry Potter. I already know the Council despises wizards, especially wizards that despise us. We are persecuted by English laws and customs, yes, but He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would have us destroyed the moment he grasps power."

"You understand the situation, yes?" Jeachen said as he held out one hand towards the vampire.

"Clearly," Jeachen said grimly. "What of the other creatures? How involved are they in this plan?"

"The goblins and house elves have been talking about him for months now, watching him and ensuring proper care. The goblins have kept a close watch on his monetary interests and the house elves have practically smothered him with their care at the request of Fawkes...that reminds me," he stopped and held out an arm. "Fawkes!"

Aiden jumped when the phoenix appeared on the centaur's arm. "Show-off," he muttered as the bird trilled a greeting.

"Hello, friend." Jeachen reached up and scratched under Fawkes' chin. "Did you enjoy the meeting?" A series of chirps and trills followed the question.

"You can't possibly understand that." The look Jeachen sent Aiden quelled the vampire's disbelief. "Or maybe you can."

"Yes, I do," Jeachen said shortly before turning his attention back to Fawkes. "Keep an eye on our friend, Fawkes. He may need some reassurance that he wasn't harmed."

Fawkes chirped once before disappearing into flames.

"Oh, so the bird's in on the manipulation, too?" Aiden demanded.

Jeachen gave a dry chuckle before starting to walk again. "Fawkes _thought_ of it!" The dumbfounded expression on Aiden's face caused the chuckles to turn into full blown laughter.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

"Come on, Potter! Get up here!" Harry's teacher bellowed from the platform above Harry's head.

Harry hung from the rope and tried to catch his breath. It was well into his second month of training, and he was fighting every step of the way. This man had beaten him, held him under coercive magic, bindings, wards and several magical objects Harry had never even heard of, much less found himself able to break. He was sleep-deprived, courtesy of the sadistic man shouting above him, black and blue from 'training', weary to the bone and seriously considering ending it all.

He hadn't told the man, of course. That would have been stupidity, and Harry's sense of self-preservation wouldn't allow him to say anything about his inner thoughts aloud. He would have been subjected to a lecture that would have put Molly Weasley's to shame and then made to suffer something worse than what was happening now. _Don't think about her. She's not yours, Potter. She never was. _He shook his head a little to dismiss the voice in his mind, where even his subconscious was repeating the strenuous lessons.

"Potter, move it or you'll regret it!" Harry braced his feet against the rope and lifted one hand over the other as he inched up the rope. "Faster! This is not a Sunday drive!"

Little clues like that told Harry that his teacher was well-versed in both the Muggle and magical worlds...not that the idea made him like the man any better. In fact, he could care less about him.

Harry pondered when he could possibly get away from this situation. He was shaving now, although he had needed to bumble through the "how" of learning to shave. He would have never asked this person for help...no, he would have rather cut open his throat before asking the man to teach him to shave. The razors had just appeared in Harry's bathroom one morning and Harry had found a new one every morning. No wand, no magic, but he had razors. Muggles managed to end the pain like that, didn't they? His hands slipped on the rope as his legs started giving out. He gritted his teeth against the burn on his hands and inched upwards.

"I'm becoming impatient, Potter!" Harry ignored the shouting. He could care less what the other man thought, or wanted, or expected. He only wanted to go to sleep and never wake up.

His upper body started to shake in exhaustion as Harry fought his way up the rope. He had quite a ways to go and he wasn't moving any faster. He glanced down as he tried to wrap his feet around the rope again. He was extremely high off the ground. Yes, he wanted to end it, but he didn't want to end as a human pancake. He would control it, not gravity or anything else.

"POTTER!" Harry snapped out of his thoughts and struggled to unwrap one of his hands from around the rope. His fingers had started to cramp and his muscles were fighting to hold onto the rope, not to let go of it. "Let's go, Potter!"

Harry looked up to find his teacher glaring down at him with all the disapproval Uncle Vernon had had for him. He lifted his hand again, and his head lolled as his vision started to black out. He took a deep breath to steady himself and tried to hold onto the rope. _Not like this. I refuse to go like this!_

"Potter?" The voice sounded different than usual. It was so odd and unexpected that Harry had to take a few seconds to process what it meant. That was concern. He was surprised and forced himself to look up. His hands lost their grip, and he started to slide down the rope. He gasped and fought for his hold. He almost panicked, but found himself clinging to the rope again with shaking arms and without the support of his legs.

He heard an odd noise from beside him and looked to see a rope dropping down to the ground. He looked up and his vision swam for a few minutes as he watched his teacher slide down the rope towards him. A click near his waist made him look down, and his head weaved a bit as he tried to find his balance. A karabiner was attached to his harness that he always wore when training, but had yet to see it used. His eyes followed the rope attached and noticed that it was hooked to another karabiner, which was hooked onto his teacher's own harness. He stared at the man, perplexed at what was happening. His mouth was moving. Harry had to focus on what the man was saying to understand.

"Let go of the rope, son." Harry stared at him. Why should he let go of the rope? He would fall. "I can't help you if you don't let go." Well, Harry was used to no help. He was fine on his own. He didn't _need_ help. "Just let go, Potter."

Harry's hands started to slide again, and he noticed that the rope was stained red where his hands had been. He pondered what that meant as his vision wavered again. He sensed an arm go around his waist and felt his body pulled against another person. Several quick clicks had him secured to another harness and a firm hand started working on his grip. "Let go, Potter. I've got you. You can let go now." A harsh but worried voice said in his ear. "Just let go."

"Can't," Harry croaked as he tried to make his fingers obey him. "I can't." He whispered as blood started trailing down his arms.

"Just relax. I've got you." The voice sounded comforting in a way, as though it was afraid to betray too much emotion at once.

"I can't see," Harry said as he vision started blacking out. "I can't..."

"Just let go. Close your eyes. I won't let you fall." The voice said quickly as the hand continued to pry at his fingers.

"Already did," Harry said as he allowed his eyes to fall shut. He had fallen from the person he used to be and became something he was ashamed to know. His hands left the rope at last and his body dangled in its harness as he succumbed to exhaustion. He heard someone shouting for a medic as they started down the rope.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

He woke back in his bunk. He tried to move and found that a stasis spell held him in place. He was about to start fighting the spell, as he hated those more than anything else his teacher had done to him, when he noticed the bandages on his hands. He stared at his hands resting on the blanket and pondered why he wasn't already healed and back at training. That had been the pattern since he had first woken up in his own personal hell. It was standard operating procedure to have Harry healed as quickly as possible and then tossed back into training. This made no sense.

The door to his quarters opened and a white-coated medic walked into the room. "Ah, good. You're awake," he said happily when Harry blinked up at him. "How are you feeling?" Harry only blinked again and the man gave a nervous laugh. "Sorry about that. You had one hell of a nightmare, son. We had to use the spell to keep you in bed." The medic waved his wand, and Harry felt the restriction lift, but he was far too weary to do anything about it. "Now, how are you feeling?"

"Who?" Harry rasped. The medic grimaced at the noise Harry's throat made and summoned a pitcher of water and a glass. He poured a bit into the glass and a straw came out of the man's pocket. He put the straw into the glass and offered the straw to Harry's lips. Harry took a sip of water and allowed it to trickle down his throat.

"My name is Medic Dawson. Now, please, answer my question. How are you feeling?"

Harry took a moment to pin down how he was feeling and settled for a one word answer. "Confused."

The man actually smiled. "I asked for it, didn't I?" he said more to himself than to Harry. "Physically, please."

"Weak. Shaky. Hot." Harry kept the answers short. His previous experience with the healers here had taught him that expedience was best.

"Weak and shaky are to be expected. You've been running a fever for the past three days, so hot is to be expected as well. Are you hungry?"

"No," Harry said. The thought of food quite turned his stomach.

"Thirsty?" The medic seemed to want Harry to admit to something, so Harry nodded. Harry received another sip of water. "Nauseated?"

"Not bad," Harry answered. "What's wrong with me?" he rasped out. He received more water for his troubles.

"Physical and mental exhaustion, combined with a nasty case of flu." The medic sounded quite upset at this notion. "Probably emotional exhaustion as well," he said in a whisper that Harry thought he wasn't meant to hear. "You're on bed rest until further notice, soldier. You're to eat what you're given, follow every medical order, and not to return to training until you are cleared by me personally. Is that clear?" The last question sounded like a command, so Harry answered in the way that had been drilled into him.

"Yes, sir!" The sharp affirmation only brought on a fit of coughing. The medic cursed and drew Harry's body up into a sitting position. Harry grimaced as stiff and sore muscles started screaming at him. The medic poured a potion down Harry's throat, and the coughing slowed and then stopped altogether. Harry caught his breath for a few seconds before the medic lowered him back to his bed.

"Rest now. I'll let your trainer know what's going on." Harry nodded as the medic left the room. He stared at his ceiling for a few minutes before his eyes drifted shut. He would only rest them for a few minutes...

The nightmare that followed nearly caused Harry to fall out of his bed. That had been the worst one since he was brought here. He was starting to get used to the feelings of doubt he had about whether or not his friends would still be alive when, no, if he was returned to them. His teacher had said that he didn't know when or if that would happen. The shaking set in; he had become accustomed to the uncontrollable tremors from his nightmares. He just wished it wouldn't happen.

Harry decided a short walk, oh, down the hallway and back, would help to ease his nerves. He kicked back the blankets and raised himself to a sitting position. _So far, so good, Potter._ He pushed himself to his feet and waited until his equilibrium evened out. _Okay, now one foot in front of the other._ He made it to his bedroom door and wondered what time it was. Getting caught out of bed against medical advice was not something he really wanted to deal with when he was feeling so out of sorts.

He edged out into the hallway and started towards the other end. The amazing thing about all of this was that he hadn't felt bad when he was on the rope. Tired, sure, but not ill. Why didn't he notice before passing out? Wait, was that what had happened? He felt the memory of something poking at his brain. He nearly lost his footing when he realized that his teacher, the man he had grown to despise, actually had pried Harry from the rope. What had he said? _I won't let you fall._

"I don't think this pattern of training is good for him." Harry froze at the voice coming from the common room. "I don't feel that he is as bad as you made him out to be."

Hello, what was this? Harry edged closer to the doorway and focused on the voice.

The voice that followed was distorted. "My information comes from direct sources. The Potter boy spent most of his life being coddled by the teachers at Hogwarts, save one or two here and there. He needs to be strengthened."

"Not like this." Harry couldn't believe the feeling starting to grow inside him. His personal tormentor was standing up to, well, whoever that was. "Have you ever seen him have a nightmare?"

"Can't say I've had the honor," the other voice sneered.

"The look in his eyes when he wakes," Harry grimaced. He hated when people saw him before he was aware. "It's like looking into the abyss."

"Don't be absurd." Harry figured out that the other voice was coming from the Floo. He wanted to run into the common room and call out a destination, but didn't want to push his luck just then.

"I'm being serious, my friend. I think your intelligence on Potter is flawed, possibly through bias. He's on bed rest, medic's orders. After he's released for training, I'm taking over his regimen. He won't be _coddled_, and he will be trained, all at once."

"Doc, you have your orders," the strange voice said.

"Those orders are only in effect so long as they are effective. They are not, so I am stepping in to amend those orders and adapting the mission as I see fit. All actions I am going to take are well within my parameters. I'll let you know how I'm getting on."

"You'll be calling me in three days, begging me to take the boy off your hands," the other voice chuckled. _Hey, I'm not that bad!_

"For some reason, I doubt that, old friend," Harry could almost see the man's smirk. "One question: did you know Potter was beaten as a child?"

"Impossible," the Floo voice said.

"He has the scars, and the attitude. Have you ever noticed that he hates being in a room where something or someone is between him and the exit? He flinches away from unexpected contact, and protects his vital organs at all costs, instinctively."

"He had good Defense teachers. The Floo voice then made an odd sound that Harry was sure was foul language. "I can't really say that, can I?"

"No, you can't. Oh, he has nightmares about being hit with a belt, a switch, and something called a Smeltings stick. Pleads with someone called 'Uncle Vernon'. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

"The boy's maternal uncle through marriage, I believe." The Floo voice paused for a second. "Are you speaking truly, Doc?"

"I wouldn't lie about something like this. I fear we have taken the wrong approach with him and may have caused irreversible damage." Doc sighed and Harry heard him drumming his fingers on the mantelpiece. "I'll let you know how things go with him. Please, for all things magical and mundane, would you stop calling him 'boy'?"

"I make no promises," the Floo voice said flatly. "Good luck; you'll need it."

"Oh, yes, always so very encouraging, mate. A bright ray of sunshine, Donnelly."

"You and that ridiculous nickname!" the Floo voice snapped.

"And what have you been calling me? Oh, yes. 'Doc'. That's a good name. At least yours has meaning!"

"Hmm, schoolboy nicknames aside...I must go. I'll be in touch." The Floo call ended and then Harry realized that the last place he wanted to be was in the hallway. He hurried back to his room and collapsed into his bed. The conversation certainly gave him something to think about while he was confined to bed.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Harry rolled over and snuggled deeper into the blankets surrounding him. He was extremely comfortable, and the last thing he wanted to do was get up for training and listen to-wait a moment. He put his hand out and felt around. He wasn't in the right type of sleepwear. The room's smell and feeling was off. He wasn't in his bunk. Oh, it had all been a dream.

_Right, so what happened?_ Harry put his dream away in his mind and tried to remember what happened. _Centaurs. That's right. The centaurs, and there were vampires and SOMEONE'S TOUCHING ME!_

He stiffened in response. The hand stopped moving. "Are you awake, Harry?"

_What's she doing here?_ _And why does she insist on petting my hair?_ Harry wormed his head out of the blankets and peered up at Mrs. Malfoy. "Hi," he said softly. _Hi? Is that all I can come up with? Pathetic._

"Thank goodness you're alright. Let me get Madame Pomfrey." Harry didn't want her to get Madame Pomfrey. He could handle one or the other, but certainly not the both of them. He reached out and touched her hand. "Just stay here, dear. I'll be right back." _Where does she think I'm going to go?_

She was right back with Madame Pomfrey in tow. Harry watched blearily as Madame Pomfrey waved her wand and muttered under her breath. "You're going to be fine, Mr. Potter. You just need some rest and plenty of it with a few good meals in you." A full tray was set in front of him not five minutes later, and he was told to tuck in. He looked around, completely confused and extremely tired.

"Just eat as much as you can, Harry," Narcissa Malfoy said as she resumed her seat next to his bed.

Harry hid a grimace and picked up the fork. He ate automatically, not quite up to caring about anything except following the orders he was given and then going directly back to sleep. He felt almost sick when she allowed him to stop, and she took the tray away. He relaxed back into the pillows piled behind him and sighed as his eyes closed. He would figure out what had happened tomorrow. Now, he just wanted to sleep. He felt blankets tucked around him and a light hand on his head.

"Sleep tight, Harry," A hand brushed back his hair, and he sighed. Tomorrow he would find answers. Not now.

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Author's Note 2: I have no idea why I'm posting now. No one is going to be reading this, considering that the book is coming out in less than twenty-four hours. Please, don't leak or spoil the book in your review. Wait at least two weeks to mention anything about the book, okay? This story is AU, so the seventh book shouldn't affect it at all. Everyone have fun and be safe out there!


	16. Not Broken

Author's Note: Sorry about the delay in posting. School has been terrible this semester. I wouldn't expect too many updates until after Christmastime. Thanks for hanging in there.

* * *

Snape stood in the darkened Hospital Wing and thought. This little adventure with the centaurs was over for Potter, but the rest of the Hogwarts staff seemed less than amicable to moving on with life. Dumbledore and McGonagall had both returned to the Forest many times in the last three days to talk to the centaurs. They couldn't be found. Even Hagrid couldn't find them. There was only one explanation for this strange disappearance - the centaurs were hiding.

Snape moved over to Potter's bed and stared down at the boy. Potter wasn't being much of a help in their quests to locate the centaurs. In fact, avoidance could be used to describe what Potter was doing, if Pomfrey hadn't supplied the information that Potter was suffering from exhaustion. She stated that Potter was in much the same condition as he had been at the start of the Christmas holiday. Snape decided that Potter was not avoiding them simply based on the evidence Madame Pomfrey had given. This was the second night watching the boy while Pomfrey went for her customary tea. The boy would wake, look around, readjust his position, and go back to sleep. Quite maddening, especially when all of the professors were looking for information that only Potter possessed.

* * *

Six days passed without any input needed from Harry. He slept, ate what was given him, and slept again. He didn't really mind the sleeping part, as it kept him unaware of the hovering of various people in Hogwarts and those visiting. Madame Pomfrey was a certainty and Mrs. Malfoy visited almost everyday. Harry had caught Snape in the Hospital Wing with absolutely no excuse, so Harry could only surmise that Snape had stopped to see him. Draco had practically moved into the Hospital Wing with him before Madame Pomfrey had put her foot down. Professor Flitwick spent some time with him, while he was conscious, that is. Mr. Malfoy had even made an appearance. (Harry was happy to hear that it had been while he was asleep.) He didn't know if Dumbledore had come by, but he was glad he hadn't needed to speak to the man. Harry's Occlumency was still strong, but he didn't want to tempt fate around the headmaster. Hermione stopped by, more often than not with Ron Weasley in tow.

There was something off about Ron Weasley. Harry couldn't figure out what was wrong in the odd ten minutes here and there he spent with his old friend. Ron looked tired in a way, as though something was bothering him. Harry couldn't be sure what it was. After all, he spent most of the recent days oblivious to the world around him as he slept off whatever had happened to him in the Forbidden Forest. Hermione never came alone, so Harry couldn't question her about Ron's odd behavior. Of course, that could just be the Ron now, instead of what Harry remembered. Nevertheless, Harry decided to start keeping a closer eye on Ron once he was released from the Hospital Wing. Well, if he could get away from Draco Malfoy.

Madame Pomfrey seemed as happy as a cat to have Harry in her clutches for more than a few days. She pushed food on him every moment he was awake and hummed a little as she watched him eat trays of food he normally never would have touched. Professor Snape's threat of a lowered Potions' grade really didn't bother him, but he had seen the man stopping by the infirmary. Harry figured the man was checking up on him, and that would include his eating habits.

Harry sighed a little to himself, and he pulled out his journal. Professor Flitwick had brought a few things up to the Hospital Wing for his student, and the journal Snape had given him was one of them. Of course, it had been tucked in with his other schoolbooks. Flitwick probably had no idea what it was.

Harry gave a quick look around for anyone watching. It was early evening. Everyone else was at dinner and Madame Pomfrey had just "popped out" and would be back in a little while. No one could see what he was about to do. He fished his wand out of the nightstand and performed the spell that would keep his secrets safe from the rest of the world.

_I'm not sure what they did to me. I don't feel any different, but I feel as though I_ should_ feel different. I'm not making any sense at all. I do feel more relaxed…less jumpy. I would say less alert, but I'm just as alert as always. Less wound, less tense, perhaps. Definitely less exhausted, but I'd consider that normal since I'm sleeping most of the time these last few days. All the same, I need to know what they did. I don't think I can just let this go. I need to know what they did to me and my mind. I'll go tonight. _

* * *

Harry listened for Madame Pomfrey shutting down the Hospital Wing for the night. He waited until he heard her close the door to her office before moving. He left his bed and crept down to the Ravenclaw dorm. It was midnight now; he had until six o'clock until she checked on him again. He changed into dark clothing and said a quick spell to cover his exposed skin. A level three restricted spell caused an irritating burn in his eyes, but the irritation was worth it. He wouldn't need his glasses for the next four hours.

Leaving Hogwarts was ridiculously easy. He had a feeling that the professors were having a meeting; absolutely no one was patrolling the halls, not even Filch and Mrs. Norris. He had to wonder what they were meeting about. An idea popped into his head. It could be about the centaurs. He could almost hear the debate about allowing such "violent" creatures to remain so close to a school of defenseless children.

The grounds were moonlit and Harry's breath wreathed about his head as he crept towards the Forbidden Forest. He heard Hermione's voice chastising him in his head as he entered the trees' shadows: "Breaking about a million school rules." He didn't care. He wouldn't get caught.

The Forbidden Forest hid his body well as he crept through the brush. Nothing was about, and the forest was silent as he started his hunt for the centaurs. He _would_ get answers…whether they wanted to tell him or not. He looked for the signs of centaurs and frowned. Were none of them around? Had they moved after they messed with his mind? _If they migrated before I could get answers… _He plotted various and vague acts of revenge in his head as he glided through the forest.

"Hello, Harry Potter," Harry whirled to his right and brought up his wand as Jeachen appeared from the trees. "I hear you are looking for me."

"You could say that," Harry said, wand still pointed at Jeachen. "I want to know what you did to me. You explained, yes, but it makes no sense. What did you actually do to me?"

"Did to you?" Jeachen asked in shock. "What a strange way to put it," he said as he motioned Harry to a log. "Sit down, Harry Potter, and we will discuss the situation."

A peaceful feeling spread over Harry, and he shook his head. "You're doing it again." Harry said as he backed away. This was a bad idea, and he was ready to run back to the safety of the castle. His teacher would die of shame if he knew Harry was willing to run away from a confrontation.

"I am doing nothing," the centaur said. "I know who is, and I will call him for you."

Harry put his back against a tree and tried to fight the strange feeling in his head. Jeachen raised his arm and said a word Harry didn't recognize. A flash of flame surprised Harry, and his eyes widened as Fawkes appeared.

"Hello, little friend," Jeachen told Fawkes. He reached out and scratched under Fawkes' beak. "Harry Potter is here and would like answers."

Fawkes trilled as he left Jeachen's arm and flew to Harry. Harry raised an arm for Fawkes out of reflex and the phoenix landed there and proceeded to stare at Harry. "I don't understand," Harry said as Fawkes climbed up to his shoulder and proceeded to preen Harry's hair.

"Fawkes organized everything, Harry Potter." Jeachen said with a something close to a smile. "He knows what you are fighting, what haunts the forest at night, drinking the unicorn blood. He called for the magical creatures to protect you from that."

Harry couldn't help petting Fawkes as he moved to the log and sat down. He suddenly felt tired.

"You are still recovering," Jeachen said as he moved to stand next to Harry.

"I needed answers." Harry was not going to allow the centaur to make him feel bad for leaving the Hospital Wing. Besides, Madame Pomfrey said she was going to release him tomorrow, so long as he promised to rest. "What did you do to my mind, then?"

Fawkes trilled and head butted Harry. Jeachen only smiled. "We, or should I say Aiden, put a delay on your panic impulse."

"You what?"

"Your panic impulse in your mind has been over stimulated and reset to a higher degree. In other words, your mind now panics at things it should not. Being touched, for instance. We only delayed it. You will still be able to fight, should you need to do so, but you will not overly panic. It's a little complicated to explain. We didn't want to wait until you were older, for young minds are more flexible and recover far easier."

"So, you slowed down my flight or fight response?" Harry asked.

"Is that what you call it?" Jeachen asked. "Yes, I suppose. By two or three seconds. Just long enough for your brain to process if a perceived threat is a real threat or not."

Harry considered the information while Fawkes continued preening his hair. He thought about how nice it would be not to startle at hearing loud noises, or leaping away from friendly touches from his dorm mates. "Will I sleep more? Aiden said 'No more screaming nightmares'. That would be nice."

"Yes," Jeachen said. "No more screaming nightmares. You'll be able to separate past from present with a few seconds, not a few minutes. Much calmer, less driven. More normal."

Harry reached up and scratched Fawkes as he thought. It _was_ a good idea. Somewhat. Fawkes continued to preen his hair and Harry sighed. It was just easier to accept it. "What's done is done," he said with an air of finality. "I don't like _how_ it was done, but I…appreciate the effort." A yawn split his face, and he could only grin sheepishly.

"We should get you back to the school." Jeachen said. His face said it all: _You should be in bed._ "Should you need a place away from wizards, the centaurs will hide you." Jeachen said as Harry stood. "We know your secrets."

"Oh." The offer surprised Harry. Centaurs were usually insular with only necessary interaction when a situation merited outside contact. _Well, I guess they want to ensure that I survive, and who knows how long I'll have before I start wanting to draw my wand on every annoying person there is out there._ "Thank you."

"You are welcome."

* * *

Harry was released from the Hospital Wing the next day. His classmates were all happy to see him, and many offered notes and study help. He had only needed to say Hermione Granger's name and then he was left alone. He met up with Terry Boot and walked into the Great Hall for breakfast. Hermione nearly bowled him over with her happiness at seeing Harry out and about for well over a week.

Harry fought off his friends' well-wishes by claiming he was hungry. Most of them were shocked and allowed him to make his way to Ravenclaw table so that he could get breakfast without any more delay. He smiled as his plate appeared, and he saw that Serry was on duty. He couldn't blame the house elves for the events in the Forbidden Forest, as they were always so happy to please anyone willing to give them orders. That's what made them special.

"Mail's here!" Terry Boot said excitedly. "I wonder if Mum sent me some of her biscuits!" Harry looked up, only mildly curious, when he saw Hedwig coming his way. _Probably a letter from Mrs. Malfoy,_ he thought, as Hedwig landed on his arm.

"Hi, Hedwig," he said as he offered her some bacon from his plate. "What do you have for me?" He accepted the letter from her and sent her back to the Owlery after a scratch and another slice of bacon.

He turned the parchment envelope over and over in his hands, studying the vaguely familiar writing on one side and the blue wax seal. He shrugged to himself, not sensing anything magical about it. He broke the seal and slid out the sheet of folded parchment from within.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_I'm afraid that you do not know me (or do you?), but I do know you. I was very good friends with your parents, James and Lily. We were in the same House together at Hogwarts and they were both dear friends. Forgive me; I really should introduce myself, shouldn't I? My name is Remus Lupin. _

_You must be wondering why I am contacting you now and not some time before this. There are two reasons; I've been abroad and without your primary address, and I believe that you're recently spent some time in the Forbidden Forest._

_I would like to meet with you, if you can spare the time. Just owl me with days and times convenient for you. I look forward to hearing from you soon._

_Sincerely,_

_Remus Lupin_

* * *

_Dear Mr. Lupin,_

_I will meet you this Saturday, 2:00 pm, in the _Three Broomsticks_, Room 8._

_Sincerely,_

_Harry Potter_

Remus folded the letter and placed it in his robe pocket. He found it strange that Harry had taken the initiative to arrange their meeting place. Remus had thought about several different locations within Hogwarts, but the lad seemed determined to meet away from Hogwarts. He wasn't sure how Harry was going to accomplish leaving school grounds when he was just a first year, but decided he wasn't going to question it. Harry seemed to be a very determined child…_if he's a child at all._

Remus nodded to Rosmerta as he passed through the common area and went to room eight. He rapped on the door and waited for it to be opened.

The latch clicked, and he nudged the door open a bit. "Mr. Potter?" he said in a low tone. The door flew open and a small but strong hand latched onto his wrist. He was pulled into the room and the door snapped shut. A few silent spells hit the door in rapid succession as Remus stepped away from threshold.

"What do you say to close a map?" A tense voice questioned from thin air.

"Mischief managed," Remus said tightly, aware of where Harry was, and saddened that Harry seemed to trust no one on the surface.

"All right," Harry's voice came from directly behind and Remus whirled. "I apologize for the deception, Mr. Lupin. I had to be sure you are you."

"Quite alright, Mr. Potter. Those spells on the door?"

"Level 2 restricted spells," Harry answered as he removed his invisibility cloak, "to ensure our privacy."

"I see," Remus smiled. "Where in he world did you learn those?"

"Before I was taken by Voldemort," Harry said as he folded the cloak and motioned to the table and chairs. "Please sit down. I've arranged for some refreshments." Harry said as they appeared. "Thank you, Serry." Harry said to the air.

"Serry?" Remus asked.

Harry gave a little smile. "The house elves at Hogwarts are in a conspiracy over me. I have five assigned to me, to ensure that I have everything I need at a moment's notice."

"A conspiracy?" Remus asked as he poured out tea for them.

"Yes. One oversees my food, another takes care of my clothing, another helps me in the library, another my things. I literally don't have to do a thing. At least they are straightforward about it. The other magical creatures, however, are a bit more underhanded." Harry gave Remus a significant look.

"Yes, I suppose we are," Remus agreed. "Yet, you have to admit, we had a reason."

"I know," Harry said, resigned. "The centaurs explained. I'm still not happy about it, but I understand it now."

"Mr. Potter, may I ask-"

Harry held up a hand. "Please, Mr. Lupin. Call me Harry. I knew you before and 'Mr. Potter' makes me feel as though I've done something wrong."

"All right, Harry. What did you call me before?"

"You asked me to call you 'Remus'."

"Please continue to do so…Mr. Lupin is my father's name," Remus smiled at the snort Harry gave. "I take it we were close?"

"As close as Dumbledore would let us," Harry answered.

"I'm afraid I don't understand that," Remus said.

"It's a long story," Harry said.

"And I think I'd better hear all of it," Remus said firmly.

Harry looked up from his muffin and saw the look Remus was giving him. "I don't know if I can," he admitted.

"Try," Remus urged.

Harry stared at him for a few seconds. Remus was giving him such a look of openness and understanding. Just like he had before. This was the same Remus, he was almost sure of it. This was _his_ Remus Lupin, his mentor. His confidant after Sirius had died. Slowly, Harry took a deep breath and released it. "After the death of my parents, I was sent to live with my relatives in the Muggle world, Vernon and Petunia Dursley. I was unwanted there, but protected from the Dark Lord and his followers. I didn't exactly flourish there, but I didn't die, either. I stayed until I was eleven, when a rather large and hairy man by the name of Hagrid cane to introduce me to the magical world." Once Harry started talking about his life, he couldn't seem to stop. He had to pause a few times to control his emotions, to keep from crying. He finished with the decision he made to come back.

"He broke me, Remus, Harry said tightly. "I was little better than an amusing pet to him…a lapdog to the Dark Lord. That's the only reason I can think that he kept me alive so long." Harry clenched his hands into fists and struggled to control his anger.

Remus stood slowly and went over to Harry. He pulled the chair away from the table, turned it towards him, placed his hands on the arm rests, and knelt in front of Harry. "Please look at me, Harry." Remus asked.

Harry lifted his eyes slowly to meet Remus' eyes. "Voldemort. Did. Not. Break. You." He said slowly. He held up a hand for silence when Harry was ready to protest. "Had he broken you, you would not have been able to make the decision you did when given your choices."

Harry stared at him and he felt something break inside of him he didn't know he had. "I-" He could only shake his head as all of his self-incrimination started to melt away.

"He didn't break you, Harry. Far from it." Remus studied him for a few seconds before his face changed. "I know you are averse to touch, but if you need…" Remus only opened his arms and knelt there, waiting for Harry to make the first move.

Harry left his chair slowly, as though unsure of the floor beneath his feet. Remus waited and watched as Harry stood in front of him. The boy took a small step forward and wrapped his arms around Remus.

"Welcome home, Harry." Remus said as he tightened his own arms around Harry. Harry didn't say anything. He didn't need to. His hug, hungry and strong, said it all to the werewolf. Harry knew he was no longer completely alone.


	17. Blasted Owl

Author's Note: Wow, look at this. An update. I must be alive after all. Enjoy everyone. Thanks goes out to the fabulous beta, MimiTaylor. Thanks, hon!

* * *

_Dear Remus,_

_I don't know whether to be upset or happy about what was done to me. I don't startle any more. I jump, but it's the same way all eleven year olds jump. I still don't like to be touched (I doubt I'll ever get over that), but it doesn't bother me; well, it bothers me, but I can act as though it doesn't bother me. Even my nightmares have turned into vague bad dreams, instead of the torturous events they were before. I can sleep through the entire night. That alone makes being kidnapped by centaurs worth it. Please don't tell them I said that! That whole "what's best for the herd" mentality they have is intimidating. _

_I have to ask...what was that group you were with? Werewolves, I know. But why were you all together? Take care of yourself, Remus. _

_Harry_

* * *

_Dear Harry,_

_The group was the Cooperative. It's an experimental group, based upon the idea of the advancement of werewolf rights and interest. It works to educate those without educational opportunities and find flexible employment for the unemployed. Does that answer your question? If not, just ask and I'll explain._

_I'm glad you're doing better. Please let me know if you need to talk...or anything at all. I'm here for you, no matter if you're eleven or twenty. I'm currently working as a Latin tutor, so my time is fairly flexible. I don't know how long I'll be able to refrain from boxing the ears of my current student...he's quite dense and does not __study__. I don't know why Smeltings bothers...he will never be able to pass his exam this year. I may have to put a spell on him. Perhaps hoping for a miracle would be better?_

_I know you've already been through school once, but how is it going? Any problems? Are you learning anything new? Let me know. You make sure to take care of yourself, even with house elf help. _

_Remus_

_P.S. – I won't tell the centaurs. – R._

* * *

_Dear Remus,_

_It's amazing how much I missed in school the first time around. Then again, I did have a crazy man trying to kill me. I have discovered most professors just want their students to learn. Any student expressing interest is encouraged and even pushed to greater heights. Well, except Quirrell. I avoid him as much as possible. Just biding my time there. _

_I've shown "talent" at Potions. I haven't told Snape I've already worked with a Potions Master. He might die of shock, and then kill me for making him lose his composure. I think he actually cares about me. He's confronted me about my relatives and taken an interest in my well-being, even to go as far as nagging (yes, nagging!) me about my eating habits. Honestly, I have a house elf dedicated to providing balanced, nutritious meals. I'm okay with the eating thing. _

_Snape is giving me private lessons. Don't tell anyone. He's still protective of me and it's become worse since I was kidnapped by the herd. He claims he only cares because I can make potions. Well, I think he actually cares about me, but is hiding behind the potions excuse. What do you think?_

_Harry_

* * *

_Dear Harry,_

_I always knew there was a softer side to Snape. I fear you have discovered his greatest secret. Underneath the Potions Master does exist a man with emotions. I'm very happy that he has "taken an interest" in you. Everyone needs someone to work with. You can't fool me. I can tell you enjoy the time you spend with him. He obviously challenges you. Just avoid blowing yourself up. It'd be quite a waste after everything you've gone through. _

_I remember you mentioning a confrontation with Quirrell. Must you? Can't you just pass on the knowledge of the possession to someone else? A teacher? Your Head of House? Please consider alternatives before confronting him yourself. Take care of yourself._

_Remus_

_P.S. - I know you don't like sweets these days, but every boy at Hogwarts will have a Chocolate Frog card collection...no reason for you not to have one as well. Enjoy them, Harry. You deserve a bit of childhood. R._

* * *

Harry folded the letter back into its envelope and inspected the box Remus had sent him. There were six Chocolate Frogs in the box. Harry picked up the first one, broke the seal, and caught the Frog with ease as it leapt from its box. He bit off its head and smirked a bit as Terry gave him a shocked look. "You're eating sweets!" 

"So I am." Harry agreed as he slid the Chocolate Frog card into his satchel.

* * *

Snape was not in a happy mood this morning. Oh, no. First, he woke up late. Then Peeves had made his way into the plumbing and blocked the hot water flow just before Snape rinsed his hair. After that, he found that he had misplaced his notes for his classes and Potter's afternoon lesson. The coffee at breakfast needed a warming charm, which turned it slightly bitter. Now the mystery that was Potter was practically taunting him. House points would be in trouble today. 

Potter himself was unaware of Snape's scrutiny. The boy had changed since his kidnapping, but not in the way Snape had expected. Psychology (a sadly neglected science in the magical world, in Snape's opinion) told him that most children would become withdrawn, yet clingy to their protectors after such an experience of kidnapping. Nightmares and boundary testing often followed as the child attempted to regain some solid footing in his life. He had braced himself for the radical changes and had prepared to offer himself up as confidant to the boy. Potter was not cooperating.

Potter had changed, but in the opposite direction. He had become relaxed, instead of tense, cheerful, instead of withdrawn. The boy slept deeper and without dreams to wake him. Yes, Potter's behavior was an enigma to Snape and Snape certainly enjoyed puzzles. But not like this. This had no logic to it. Evidence and study had told Snape what to expect, but none of it was turning out the way he predicted.

_THERE GOES THAT BLASTED OWL!_ Snape scowled at the snowy owl descending towards Potter. That was just another layer to the puzzle that was Potter. Somewhere, somehow, Potter had found a pen friend. Snape had spent some time watching/stalking Potter, and the boy had made three separate trips to the owlery in the last week. Moreover, this pen friend was not anyone with whom Snape was familiar. Worse, Potter had yet to tell Snape about it. _It's as though Potter has found...hmm, what to call it? A confidant. _Snape was surprised to feel a bit put out. What had changed that allowed Potter comfort from someone else? _Hmm...it is time to increase my presence__ in Potter's life. For his safety._ Snape returned his attention to the subject of his thoughts and nearly allowed his jaw to drop in surprise. _IS POTTER EATING CHOCOLATE FOR BREAKFAST?!_

* * *

The halls of Hogwarts were silent as night drifted through the windows and covered everything in slumber. Whispers of snoring from portraits and suits of armor gave an atmosphere of lethargy. Starlight filtered through the glass and added a touch of glitter to an otherwise dark night. Everyone should have been asleep at this point of the night, where night was starting to end and day was about to begin. Everyone except Harry Potter. 

Harry Potter was having fun. Not just any fun, but "I'm spying on someone and he is completely unaware" fun. He crept down the hall after Ron Weasely. Harry's invisibility cloak was doing an excellent job of hiding him from view, and his training provided stealth and silence. All in all, it was _fun!_

Ron Weasley was a different matter. Harry had to wonder how involved Professor McGonagall was in her students' lives. She obviously hadn't noticed anything amiss with one of her first years. Ron was pale, unable to sleep, off his food (truly a miracle) and lacked any level of concentration. Harry had spent the last two weeks watching Ron Weasley at various times and could come to only one conclusion after watching Ron leave Gryffindor tower in the middle of the night. Something was going on.

Harry could only stare when Ron turned down the Defense hallway. _What is he doing down there?_ Harry followed as close as he could without giving himself away. He needed to know what Quirrell was up to before acting on it. Remus had mentioned taking this to another person. A teacher, even Dumbledore. Harry couldn't. He didn't want the attention he was sure he would receive should he try. He could imagine the scene. _Hello, Professor. Listen, I think Quirrell is possessed by the former Dark Lord Voldemort and that they are up to something, possibly stealing the Philosopher's Stone. Care to do anything about that? How do I know? Good question! That's a question I can't really answer, but all the same, why don't we go take care of that little case of possession? _

Harry broke himself out of his thoughts and turned his attention back to Ron. He watched as the redhead raised a hand and flattened it against the door. Harry heard a click and the door opened wide. Harry ran forward on silent feet and slid into the office just as the door shut. He gave a quick breath and backed into a corner so that he could observe without being noticed.

"Welcome again, young Weasely." Harry's skin literally crawled at the voice he heard. It wasn't Quirrell. This was Voldemort rasping from the back of Quirrell's head. _You can do this, Potter. He can't hurt you in his condition. _Harry braced himself and pushed away all of his thoughts. He needed to be in the here and now. The past was the past.

Quirrell's hand reached out and patted Ron on the head. Harry shivered as he recalled Voldemort doing the same thing to him. _Ew._ "Come here, child." Quirrell's wand appeared, and he muttered a spell Harry had never heard before. A glow started to surround Ron and Quirrell/Voldemort uncorked a small vial of silvery liquid. _Unicorn's blood._ Quirrell/Voldemort poured the blood into a goblet before turning to Ron. He raised his wand and drew it down through the misty golden glow that surrounded Ron. A small piece left the rest and Quirrell/Voldemort guided it to the goblet. He stirred with the tip of his wand and drank off whatever it was he had created. Quirrell/Voldemort gave a compulsive shudder and sighed in deep satisfaction. "Well done, Mr. Weasley." Ron only nodded vacantly.

_That's confirmation of the Imperious Curse and obviously some kind of ritual. Is he stealing Ron's life? His magic?_ Harry reminded himself that he didn't know half of what Voldemort knew and started berating himself for not taking up Voldemort on his offers of the books. He could have learned something. _Past is past, Potter!_

Harry inched back as Ron turned and opened the door. Harry didn't notice Quirrell/Voldemort staring at the door as Harry slipped out behind Ron and followed him back to Gryffindor tower. Once Ron was safely inside the dorm, Harry said a quick invisibility spell and folded his cloak up and stuffed it into the small bag he carried. The cloak was great when speed wasn't necessary, but now he wanted to go kill a basilisk before Voldemort got any ideas about using it.

* * *

Harry cleaned Gryffindor's sword with his handkerchief before allowing it to return to Dumbledore's care. "Thank you for bringing this to me, Fawkes." Harry told the phoenix after he slid the sword into the scabbard. "We make a pretty good team, don't we?" Fawkes trilled and rubbed his head on the side of Harry's head. "Yes, silly bird. I know I'm yours. No other phoenix will ever try to claim me." Harry said with a laugh as Fawkes continued to lavish phoenix-affection in the form of chirping and caresses. "You should go back to the office before Dumbledore misses you." 

Fawkes trilled and blinked his eyes at Harry. He wiggled his tail feathers and Harry understood. "Oh, going to see me back in bed, are you?" Harry asked. Fawkes chirped and then started pecking at Harry's hair. "Give it up, Fawkes. Only house elf magic and Narcissa Malfoy can make it lay flat." Fawkes produced a funny noise that sounded like a growl before returning to his mission of fixing Harry's hair. Harry grasped Fawkes' tail feathers and felt the world slip around him as Fawkes transported him to Ravenclaw dormitory.

"Is this a hint, bird?" Harry asked in a whisper. He and Fawkes were in Harry's dorm room, where all of his roommates were sleeping. Fawkes didn't make any noise; he just pecked Harry on the shoulder once and disappeared with Gryffindor's sword. Harry rubbed the spot, checked the time and found that it was well after two in the morning. "Hmm, bed would be good." Harry said to himself as he stowed his bag away in his truck and pulled out a t-shirt and sweats. He did a quick bathroom trip and fell into bed. He wouldn't train that morning. He would find some time later in the day. Perhaps right before dinner? No, he had a class with Snape...Harry was asleep before he could complete the thought.

* * *

_Harry opened his eyes as the door to his quarters opened. His trainer was there, carrying a tray. Harry knew that that was usually a nurse's job, or at the least__ an intern. Why would his trainer be doing it? _

_"Hello, Potter. Why don't you sit up?" Harry pushed himself up to a sitting position and his trainer lowered the tray to rest on Harry's lap. "The medic assured me that you are able to handle this type of food and that you could pick up things with your hands, even bandaged as they are."_

_Harry stared at the man for a moment. "Yes, sir." He didn't quite have the air to bellow it, but he did say it sharply as he could. _

_"Relax. I'm not here as your superior officer right now, Potter." Harry went back to staring at the man, carefully blanking his mind, just in case. His earlier practice with Occlumency served him well here; he could now keep everything away from his conscience mind. Otherwise, he would have already strangled this man out of rage. "How are you feeling?"_

_"Adequate, sir." Harry answered shortly. The other man motioned for Harry to begin eating and Harry reached out for the bowl of broth. Harry was well-accustomed to this type of diet. Madame Pomfrey had used it frequently when Harry was suffering from nightly visions of Voldemort's activities. _

_"The medic tells me that your progress is good." Harry put down his bowl and eyed the man out of the corner of his eye. Was he trying to make conversation? That was a scary thought. Harry didn't answer him and wondered if this was "Doc's" attempt to change the training. "I've gotten some new books for you to read, if you're feeling up to it. I'll bring them in later." Harry nodded. "Also, a WWN set. I thought you might like some music while you're confined to bed." Harry didn't answer this time. Harry had been confined to his bed several times before, always as a punishment of trying to run away from training. Not being under coercion spells certainly helped the experience. The only problem was that the medic had caught him returning from the bathroom without having notified anyone of needing to get out of bed. Harry's bunk now had a spell on it to alert the medical staff if Harry got out of bed without one of them there. It was actually a variant of a baby monitoring spell, the medic was pleased to tell Harry. The comment did its work. Harry did not leave his bed without someone from the medical team there to watch him. It was bad enough they thought he needed a spell. _

_"You had another nightmare last night," his trainer said calmly. _

_Harry nodded. He had several nightmares a night. _

_"The medic says that you aren't getting enough rest, but you've refused Dreamless Sleep potion. Want to tell me why?" _

_Harry wondered if he could get away with pretending to fall asleep to avoid this question. "Potter?"_

_"I can't take Dreamless Sleep anymore, sir." Harry told him. "I've taken so much that I'm almost addicted. Madame Pomfrey at Hogwarts was supposed to write it in my medical file, sir."_

_"Ah, I see. We don't have access to that information yet." His trainer answered. Odd. Harry was sure that Dumbledore would have turned everything like that over to his trainer. "We're working on it. Anything else medical I should know about you?" _

_Harry debated making up something that would make them ease up, but he couldn't bring himself to lie. They would receive the information sooner or later from the way his trainer spoke of it. "Calming potions have no effect on me. Don't bother with them. All bones in my right hand have been replaced once due to an idiotic teacher at Hogwarts. I've had several sprains, broken bones, and two dislocations healed by Madame Pomfrey, as well as several cuts, scrapes and bruises to accompany the other injuries. I've been possessed once. Voldemort never tried it again."_

_His trainer sat in silence for a moment before raising his head to study Harry. "And before Hogwarts?" He asked. _

_"Nothing of note, sir." Harry told him shortly. He did not wish to speak of his relatives._

_"I don't know why I didn't insist on it before..." the man muttered before rising from his seat and going to the door. He made a vague motion and came back into the room. "We're going to do a full medical workup on you, Mr. Potter." Harry blinked at his name. He was only ever addressed as "Potter" here. Harry looked up as his usual medic and two nurses in scrubs came in. Harry tried to swallow. Those nurses looked like they could break Harry in half. _

_What followed was the most embarrassing time of Harry's life up to that point. The medic insisted on seeing absolutely everything. Worse, Harry's trainer wouldn't leave while the exam was taking place. Even blood was taken, which Harry thought was a Muggle thing until the medic told him that they could customize potions for Harry. A quill took down everything the medic said or discovered while they were doing the exam. Harry had tried to fight at one point until the nurses stepped forward. A sharp look from both the medic and trainer made him relax back into his bed. He didn't want them knowing about his relatives, especially Vernon's actions right before Harry had gone to the Weasleys for Bill and Fleur's wedding. He hadn't wanted anyone to know about that, EVER. The medic found out and then his trainer knew, too. Harry hated his life. _

_After everything was over and Harry had no dignity remaining, the medic pronounced himself satisfied and told Harry's trainer that the medical report would be on the man's desk within a day. The man left at that point, taking his two hulking nurses with him. Harry refused to look at his trainer. He wanted to disappear through the floor. He didn't want to deal with this right now. _

_"I thought so." The man said quietly. "I had my suspicions." Harry decided that he wouldn't feel better that something other than morbid curiosity had prompted this invasion of privacy. "Why didn't you tell anyone?" He asked as he pulled Harry's only chair over to the bed. _

_Harry glared at the man and refused to answer. His trainer met his glare and stared Harry down until Harry had to avert his gaze. "Ages six, seven, eight, ten in primary. Eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen more than once, and finally at fifteen. After that, I quit trying to tell someone. No one was listening. People were dying in the war at that point. Why would anyone think my still being alive was a bad thing?" Harry shrugged and rolled away from his trainer. _

_"Did you try telling Dumbledore?" His trainer asked._

_"Who did you think I was telling? I quit trusting him when I was fifteen years old. He wouldn't help me. All of the other teachers were following his orders, as McGonagall told me when I tried talking to her. I quit looking for help then. It was easier to turn my energies to endurance." Harry told him. "I really don't wish to talk about this. Sir." _

_Silence stretched between the two of them at that point. Harry ground his teeth for a moment. He'd like nothing more than to strike out at this man. He had discovered all of Harry's secrets. Harry had nothing left._

_"For what it's worth, Potter, I'm sorry. I didn't know. I had false intelligence about your life." The man said with some odd emotion in his voice. _

_You and everyone else, sir. Harry thought to himself. He only shrugged._

_"Things are going to change around here, Potter. I've been following orders up to this point. I'm taking over, but I'll need your cooperation to make it work. I'm not expecting you to suddenly start trusting me or confide in me. I know I'll never be able to earn that from you. You do need training, even you have to admit that. We'll talk tomorrow. Think things over. It can get easier than what we were doing before." The man patted Harry's shoulder and moved away from the bed. "Rest up, Potter." With that, the man left the room. Harry was left alone with his thoughts until a stack of books and a wireless set appeared on his nightstand. The top book was_Quidditch Through the Ages_. Harry fell asleep with that book not long after he started reading it. _

* * *

Harry finished off his essay and tucked it into his book bag. An apple appeared on the table in front of him and he grinned. "Thanks, Serry." He whispered as he picked it up. He was on his way to the Potions classroom for his lesson with Professor Snape. Things were going well today, even though he was tired from staying up so late last night. He bit into his apple as he shouldered his book bag. Harry left the library and started down to the dungeons. He and Snape were going to start on advanced healing potions today. Harry knew most of them, but that didn't mean he didn't want practice at them. In fact, he would welcome it. He needed to replenish some of his from the time Dobby had stolen them during his visit to the Malfoys. He hadn't been able to find a lot of time to re-stock everything. Besides, Madame Pomfrey practically begged Harry to come to her should he need anything in the way of potions or medical attention. One would think that she would calm down after having him in her clutches for seven full days, but she still insisted on giving him a check-up once a week or so. She seemed convinced that he was delicate. 

"What are you grinning about?" Snape demanded as Harry entered the Potions classroom.

"Madame Pomfrey's overprotective tendencies." Harry answered as he finished his apple and disposed of it. "How are you today, sir?" Harry asked as he removed his outer robe and hung it in its usual place before pulling on his work apron.

"Fine, Potter. A touch of headache."

"So that's why we're making these potions! You're out of your personal stock!" Harry smiled and folded his arms.

"Try not to look so smug, Potter. Get started on those ingredients over there, if you please. Migraine potions should be easy for you." Snape muttered. Harry hid his grin and went over to prepare the ingredients. Twenty minutes later found him stirring the potion under Snape's watchful eye. Snape plucked the stirring rod from Harry's hand after the last stroke and ladled out a dose into a goblet. He cooled it with a spell and drank it off.

"That must have been a really bad headache, sir." Harry said as Snape banished the goblet to the sink.

"Yes, quite." Snape agreed. "Speaking of headaches...would you care to tell me why you ate a Chocolate Frog for breakfast this morning?"

"I had finished my breakfast before I ate it!" Harry objected.

"Mr. Potter, are you in danger of becoming a typical eleven year old?" Snape asked as he began to set up another cauldron.

Harry glared at him for a moment before grinning. "Maybe," he answered. "Just maybe."

"Heaven help us all." Snape said quietly. Harry and Snape worked quietly for the next two hours. "Dinnertime, Potter." Snape said finally as Harry finished bottling a blood-clotting potion.

"Yes, sir." Harry said. He finished cleaning his station, wished Snape a good night, and went to dinner. He and Terry talked about the Transfiguration class and how McGonagall certainly surprised them with that pop quiz. Harry wondered if she had done that to boost everyone's scores in Ravenclaw. She knew that they had pulled together a study session; she had passed them in the library while they were deep in the intricacies of changing insects into clothing.

Harry wandered through the halls after dinner. He knew he should go study, or write that essay Snape wanted on the properties of healing potions, or something else. For now, he just wanted to wander. Things were starting to come to a head in his mind. Quirrell/Voldemort was definitely trying something without anyone else aware of it. Harry decided that he needed to act soon.

"There you are!" A Stupefy spell hit Harry in the back and Harry fell to the ground.

* * *

Author's Note: Blame the Muse for that little cliffhanger! Not me! 


	18. In Danger

Author's Note: Here's another chapter for you all! FYI: I figured out how to use the polls! See my profile for my first poll. ;)

* * *

_Ow._ Harry thought as he held himself still for a moment after falling. He felt something warm pulse against the hollow of his throat. _That's right. I'd forgotten about that charm._ The protection promised by the centaurs was working and Harry was still conscious. Also, this person, whoever he was, didn't want him dead yet. Harry was safe for the moment. "Get the boy." _Ah, it's Voldemort._ Harry centered himself and heard shoes scrape on the stone floor close to his ear. _There._

Harry waited until a hand gripped his arm and he came up swinging with his left hand. Quirrell/Voldemort howled when Harry made contact with his face and Harry kicked out with his right foot as Quirrell dropped him to the floor. Harry rolled away from the man and braced for the spell coming towards him. He dodged away from it and pulled out his own wand. "STUPEFY!" He needed to make this look like he was a very lucky first year. The possessed professor moved out of the way of the spell and started for Harry again.

Harry allowed the man to come closer to him and he reached out with his left hand and pushed the teacher's face away from him. Just like before, Quirrell's skin started to smoke from contact with Harry's touch. _Looks like Mum's protection is still working here._ He grinned a little to himself and fought to get his other hand free to close around Quirrell's throat. The smell of scorched flesh met Harry's nostrils and he gagged a bit. He wondered how he had managed this the first time with everything that was happening now. He could see Quirrell's eyes slowly turn red. He wasn't sure if it was from being Voldemort or if it was from blood filling them. The man was trying to get a good hold on Harry to do something. Harry wasn't sure what that was, but he had a feeling the man was trying to reach for Harry's wand.

Voldemort's hand clenched onto Harry's collar and slowly twisted the fabric until Harry's vision danced with black dots. Harry clawed at the man's hands. Voldemort was ignoring his efforts and Harry's body was becoming desperate for oxygen. He closed his eyes to focus and gathered himself to let out a burst of defensive magic. It was one of the few things he had learned from his teacher that he found to be useful. It was very much like accidental magic, but it had a very focused purpose. It acted as a magical grenade, a small focused ball of magical energy capable of throwing people away from Harry and sometimes even knocking them unconscious.

Voldemort slammed Harry against the stone wall and Harry gasped as stars filled his vision. He tired to ignore his dancing vision and turn himself towards his magic. Violence was something he could deal with. He kicked out as Voldemort lifted him higher. He focused his energy and let out a burst of pure defensive magic. It was a technique he rarely used as it exhausted him, but it was a blatant signal that he was not to be harmed. Voldemort shrieked and dropped him to back away and cradle his now charred hands to his chest, moaning under his breath in Quirrell's voice. Harry picked himself up, weaving only slightly, to advance on Voldemort with his wand. He only made it three steps before a large burst of light threw Voldemort several feet into the air. He stopped and looked to his right to see Professor Snape advancing down the hall, murder written in every line of his face.

* * *

Snape looked up from his grading and sighed. Something was wrong. He dropped his quill and rubbed his eyes. He knew what Dumbledore would say about eye strain, but he didn't feel like sitting in the light this evening. A sense of foreboding was filling the dungeon room and nothing Snape did could dispel the gloom. He told himself that he was being ridiculous, that he was allowing his imagination to run away with him, but the feeling only grew. He pushed away from his desk and stalked over to the fireplace. A quick talk with Dumbledore told him that nothing unusual was happening in the castle that evening and even Peeves seemed peaceful.

Snape snapped the lid on his Floo powder closed and resisted returning to his childhood habit of biting his lip. He did a quick check of the Slytherin common room and nothing at all was happening there aside from a few study groups. He decided that a roam around the castle would help to ease the restlessness he was experiencing and set off at a fast clip down the hallway. He turned the corner and stopped dead at a certain painting he was sure no one else ever looked at.

This painting had been a static painting of the Forbidden Forest until a few days ago. Snape had wanted a way to look at the Forbidden Forest without needing to go outside, especially after Potter's little adventure there. Now, the painting showed an image of whatever was happening in the forest at that very moment. And at that moment, it appeared that the centaurs were mobilizing for war. Text ran along the bottom, telling Snape exactly what each creature said. Five words were repeated and Snape felt all the blood drain from his face. _Harry Potter is in danger._

Snape whirled away from the painting and snapped out a spell. A green line appeared on the floor in front of him and he followed it until he heard something that sounded very much like a girlish shriek that alerted him to the presence of others. He stopped and stared down the hallway to see Quirrell hunched over, crying over something, and Harry Potter looking close to Death's door only a few meters away. Snape lifted his wand and allowed his rage to direct his magic. He was satisfied when a spell flew down the corridor and stuck Quirrell directly in the back. Quirrell collapsed to the ground and did not move.

* * *

Snape practically flew down the corridor as Harry struggled to stay on his feet. He felt the charm vibrate the slightest bit at his throat and he reached up a hand to hold it. He felt oddly disconnected from everything now. Defensive magic was his last ditch effort to save others, but he rarely used it for himself. It felt strange to do so.

_Harry Potter, are you well?_ A wispy voice said inside his mind. He startled and then looked around for the cause.

_Yes?_ He answered. The voice sounded so familiar to him. Where had he heard it before?

_Then the centaurs will return to the forest. Take care of yourself._ The voice faded away so quickly that Harry wasn't sure he had actually heard it. He knew who it was a few seconds later. It was Jeachen, the head of the centaurs. They had left the forest?

Snape stepped between Harry and Voldemort, nudging Harry behind him while he examined what was lying in the corridor. He kept his wand trained on Quirrell and his entire stance screamed out anger. "What happened, Potter?" He asked Harry, a quick glance telling him how Harry was doing.

"He attacked me." Harry answered simply. "Tried to stun me." Harry shook himself as he fought for control. The adrenaline was leaving him, leaving him to be exactly what he was after the centaurs' interference: an eleven year old boy.

Snape's wand flashed with the flare of a Patronus and Harry flinched away from the glare. He was starting to shake now. He started a breathing exercise meant to calm him and he backed away from Snape and Quirrell to do so. He knew how to master himself and he would. It just took longer now that he responded as an eleven year old.

Snape conjured some ropes and bound Quirrell head to toe. Another flick of his wand silenced the unconscious whimpers the professor was starting to make. Snape turned and stared at Harry. "Sit down before you fall down, Potter."

"Yes, sir," Harry had heard that order more than once. He leaned back against the wall and allowed himself to slide down it to rest his head on his knees. "What's going to happen to him?" Harry asked.

"That is for the headmaster to decide." Snape said, keeping one eye on Quirrell and one eye on Harry.

Harry snorted under his breath before taking one last deep breath and pushing himself up from the ground. "Potter, I said sit down." Snape snapped at him.

"I'm fine, sir."

"Shall I turn you over to Madame Pomfrey to verify that?" Snape whispered in a deadly tone that caused Harry to shiver the tiniest bit. Harry crossed his legs and leaned against the wall, watching Snape the whole while. The man scowled, but finally nodded and turned to the professors rushing down the hallway. One more Patronus left Snape's wand off to parts unknown as everyone started to babble around him. "QUIET!"

"Severus, what has happened here?" Dumbledore asked calmly after Snape had snarled at them all.

"Professor Quirrell attacked Potter. I arrived in time to witness the attack and put an end to it. What I don't know is why the attack happened in the first place." Snape then turned to Harry. "Potter?"

"I don't know, sir. All I heard was 'there you are' and then I was hit from behind. Some kind of stunning spell, I think." Harry shrugged and barely hid a wince. He was bruised and he knew it would feel worse tomorrow.

"Are you sure, Harry?" Dumbledore asked. Harry felt Dumbledore attempting Legillmency on him. Did the old man never quit peering into others' minds? This practice of avoiding the headmaster's snooping was becoming tiresome. Harry raised his hand to his head and grimaced.

"Completely sure, sir." Harry answered. He rubbed his forehead for a second before dropping his hand. He looked up in time to catch Snape glancing back and forth between him and Dumbledore. _He's suspicious._

"Well, let's see what Quirrell has to say about this." Dumbledore said as he turned to the fallen professor.

"Sir! I don't think that's Quirrell!" Harry said sharply.

"What do you mean, my boy?" Dumbledore asked. Harry wanted to throttle the old man at that moment.

"He wasn't using Professor Quirrell's voice, sir. And he was acting strange." Harry didn't want to say 'he's possessed' because of the potential for questions, but he didn't want Dumbledore to release Quirrell so soon after the man was contained.

"I'll be careful, my boy." Dumbledore said as he flicked his wand and released the binding spell. Harry saw it before anyone else as the man practically exploded from the ground, knocking Dumbledore into McGonagall, screaming something Harry didn't catch, and heading straight for him. Snape moved towards the pair of them and Harry could not allow the man's cover to be blown so easily. Harry pulled out his wand and dashed forward He and Voldemort met in the middle and Harry didn't wait.

"Stupefy!" Harry shouted as his hands met Quirrell's face. Quirrell's wand flew off into the hallway. Harry clawed at the man and tried to get as much skin of his hands to touch Quirrell that he could manage. He felt hands pulling him away and he fought to hold onto Quirrell. He felt someone else come up and give him a light tap at the back of his head just hard enough to startle him. He didn't feel the charm he wore change at all. Obviously, the charm approved this as something for Harry's own good. Harry released his hold on Quirrell as the man went lax and dropped to the ground.

Harry was turned in someone's arms and hidden in the folds of black cloak. Snape. This man was determined to protect him. How annoying. He fought for a moment before Snape laid a hand on Harry's shoulder and squeezed it. "Hush, child." It was such an odd tactic for Snape that Harry followed the order and relaxed in the man's grip.

Harry turned his head and watched as a misty figure appeared from Quirrell's body and flew screaming from the corridor. Harry squirmed around to see where the spirit was going and tried to get Snape to put him down. "Stop that!" Snape shook him the slightest bit.

"Albus, are you alright?" McGonagall asked as she helped Dumbledore up from the stone floor.

"Yes, Minerva, I am fine." Dumbledore said. He studied Quirrell on the ground before turning towards Harry. "My boy, I owe you an apology. I did not listen to you when you warned me of possible danger, and you nearly paid the price for my carelessness." Dumbledore's eyes took on a twinkle as they drifted back and forth between Snape and Harry.

Snape noticed it as well and lowered Harry to the ground. Harry tried to step away from the man only to feel a firm hand kept on his shoulder. Wonderful. The man was turning paternal. "I suppose I didn't make it clear enough for you, sir."

"Ah, Pomfrey. Could you see to Harry?" Dumbledore said as the nurse came around the corner.

"I'm fine!" Harry protested.

Pomfrey advanced on him. "You'll have to let me be the judge of that, Mr. Potter." Harry tired to back away from her, only to run into Snape. He glared up at the man and the man bent down to whisper in his ear.

"You'll let her scan you, you'll retire to the Hospital Wing for the night, and then you and I are going to have a long talk." Snape nudged him forward and Harry sighed as he allowed Pomfrey to do what she needed to do. He was ordered to the Hospital Wing for the night and he followed, wondering what Snape wanted to talk to him about.

* * *

One night turned into three days after the bruising appeared and did not respond to any treatments of Pomfrey. Dumbledore had stopped by to ask some rather annoying questions Harry could not answer and Flitwick had brought his student his assignments and pajamas from his trunk. They were the pair Narcissa Malfoy had given him and Harry felt a little calmer wearing them. That didn't make him any less anxious to get out of the Hospital Wing. Draco stopped by and Harry made the boy promise not to write his parents about Harry being in the Hospital Wing again. Draco had said that Harry was the only first year to have spent so much time in the Hospital Wing that year, but he was sure it was a record for the school. Harry told Draco to shut up.

One visitor surprised Harry into silence. Ron Weasley had appeared by Harry's bedside and just stared at Harry for a few seconds. "Er, Ron?" Harry asked when the boy didn't say anything.

"They say that Quirrell was possessed by You-Know-Who," Ron told him. "That he was doing something to me. He used an Unforgivable Spell on me to do it. You stopped him."

"By accident. He attacked me, too." Harry told the pale boy. Ron was obviously not sleeping well. "He won't be back this year."

"What about next year? Hogwarts is supposed to be safe." Ron said. Harry almost smiled at the innocence his old friend displayed. _Was I ever that young?_

"I don't know, Ron. I suppose we can only wait and see." Harry told him. _This is new Ron, Potter, not old Ron. This one may not even like you. New Ron, Potter._

"I've heard you're great at defense." Ron said. "Maybe we could study together sometime? I never want to be that helpless again."

_Just like a Gryffindor. No subtly. _"Sure, Ron. I think that would be fun. Who knows? Maybe we could start a defense club or something."

"Do you think he's going to come back?" Ron asked. Harry didn't need to ask who "he" was.

He shook his head and gave a slight shrug. "I would like to say 'no', that he won't be back. I think we both know better. He's trying to come back and nothing will stop him from trying. We only need to be vigilant and do our best to protect ourselves." Harry advised Ron.

"I'll do that." Ron told Harry. "Everyone I talked to says that you've read a lot of advanced defense books. Could you tell me some of the titles? I could read them over the summer holiday and then we could start everything next year first thing."

"I'll give you my reading list. I think I've memorized most of them, so I may be able to let you borrow some of them." Harry wondered how close the old Ron and new Ron were in personality. He studied the boy in front of him and sighed. "This is going to be a lot of work, you know. Learning something like this, I mean."

"It's worth it." Ron snapped. He took a deep breath. "Sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you. I looked up the spell he used on me. He could have made me do anything he wanted, and I would have done it. I could have been sent to kill my own family, and I wouldn't have been able to stop myself."

"It's possible to resist that spell." Harry couldn't bear to hear the hopelessness coming from new Ron. "Some say it takes a strong sense of will, but I think it's more about being stubborn and knowing yourself. It can be beat."

Ron looked down for a moment before looking up again. "I won't let anyone try to control me again. Thanks, Harry."

"You're welcome, Ron. I'll come find you later to give you that list. You can do it, Ron." Harry said calmly and with the slightest tinge of authority in his voice. Ron seemed to grow a little more confident with Harry's reassurance and wished for him to get well before leaving the Hospital Wing.

"You," Harry jumped as Pomfrey came from her office "are older than your years, Mr. Potter. You'll leave tomorrow, and if I find you back in my Hospital Wing at any time for the rest of the term, I'll not be held responsible for my actions!"

* * *

_Dear Remus,_

_  
SNAPE HAS LOST HIS SENSES! How dare he? How...I am beyond words!_

_I suppose I should tell you what I'm ranting about before ranting about it, shouldn't I? Quirrell attacked me and Snape happened to come upon us right when I had Quirrell where I wanted him. _

_Dumbledore can be an idiot. Snape had the man restrained and Dumbledore just let him free. I did what I could to keep Snape from being known to Voldemort as a spy and still the man insisted on pulling me off Quirrell. I'm then shuffled off to the hospital wing like a little kid!_

_Snape told me that we were going to "have a long talk". I didn't take that seriously, of course, because what in the world could Snape have to talk to me about? I reported to his office at the time he requested and then he proceeded to lay into me about taking better care of my life. I was completely confused, of course. I didn't understand what he was talking about. He then called me a foolish boy, pushed me into a chair, and told me to "Sit there until you understand what it means to put your life into danger!"_

_Have you ever heard such complete rot? Of course I know what it means to put my life into danger! I used to do it almost every day! If he thinks this is bad..._

_Remus, he left me there for three hours! He just went off and brewed a potion without me. THREE HOURS! When he came back, he was oh so condescending, asking if I had learned my lesson. I tell you Remus, I was very close to striking the man! _

_I told him that I had no idea why he was so upset and that his meaning of life in danger was obviously skewed. I tried to leave. He actually picked me up from the ground. Remus, this removing my person from the ground is getting to be a habit of his. An annoying habit. _

_He then decided to lecture me about taking on fully grown wizards with less than a year's education in my brain, if "anything managed to stay there in that brain" at all. I ask you, what does he hope to do by insulting my intelligence? Did he hope that I would become irrational? _

_I still have yet to come to the worst part of it. He's grounded me, Remus. GROUNDED ME. The oh so hilarious thing (please note the blatant sarcasm) about all of this is that THE HEADMASTER AGREED! HE AGREED WITH THIS ASININE PLAN!_

_I am now forced to report to various teachers' offices after classes and when I am not in the Great Hall for meals. I must be escorted through the halls by two or more classmates if I am going to the library or Great Hall. The teachers "want to keep an eye on me." I am obviously incapable of taking care of myself. Pardon me, but who beat down Voldemort while Dumbledore was attempting to peel himself from the ground and McGonagall attempting to help? I'm surrounded by incompetents, Remus. Incompetents. _

_I'm in Snape's office right now. I even have my own desk and everything. Do not take that as joy in my voice. I am very upset about this. Snape is keeping a close eye on me at the moment. I have to hide this parchment under an essay and go back and forth between the two. If my penmanship suffers, so be it. I hope you can read this. Thanks for listening. I'm going to close before Snape catches me doing this. I'm supposed to be studying. _

_Harry_

Harry folded the parchment quickly and sealed it before shuffling some papers around and settling again to work on his Transfiguration essay.

"That is a longer than usual letter to that pen friend of yours," Snape remarked dryly from his own desk. "You must have had a lot to tell him."

_Uh-oh. He caught me. Oh well. _Harry ignored his professor and opened his Transfiguration textbook to look for information about animals into house wares.

"Oh, the silent treatment." Snape said into the air a few minutes later. "Very mature, Mr. Potter."

Harry knew that Snape hated the silent treatment. Harry also knew that he could beat Snape every time. He studied the clock for a moment, gauged the time he would need for this next part of the essay and cracked his knuckles in preparation for writing.

"It won't work, you know." Snape said quietly.

_Oh, yes it will, because you can't stand it._ Harry didn't even bother pausing his writing. He merely continued on with his essay.

Almost a full hour passed before Harry was startled by Snape grabbing his chair and turning him around. Harry glared at his professor.

"This is for your own protection, Potter. Surely you realize that?" Snape snapped at him. Harry didn't say anything. Snape placed both hands on the armrests of Harry's chair and leaned forward. "What did those relatives do to you that made you so careless of your life?" His voice was speculative. Harry didn't like it.

Harry wanted to stand up, but Snape hadn't moved yet. In fact, he leaned closer to Harry. "Why won't you allow us to help you, Potter?" Snape asked. "Why try to stand alone when your professors are trying to help you?"

Harry leaned his head back against the chair and sighed. He drummed his fingers on his leg and waited. Snape was cutting into Harry's study time. "Tell me, Potter. Do they care for you at all?" Harry felt the slightest push of Legillmency and he decided a reaction would be perfect at this point. He pushed back as violently as possible. Snape visibly swayed and only glared down at Harry as Harry reached up one hand to massage his forehead. _Take that, Snape. Now get out of my face._

"Pout if you like." Snape said crossly as he returned to his own desk.

_He could have turned me back towards the desk._ Harry grumbled to himself as he turned the chair around and went back to his essay.

"What can you tell me about the centaurs? Did you know that they had left the Forbidden Forest and were coming to your rescue, only to return moments after I appeared on the scene?"

_Really? That's nice. Perhaps I'll be better off with the centaurs!_ Harry didn't respond.

"You must be excited about the summer holidays coming up." Snape tried again a few minutes after the centaur comment. "Did your family make any plans for the summer?"

_Hmm, let's see. I'm going to spend as much time out of the house as possible for the two weeks I'll need to ensure the protections, and then I'm going to disappear to my little flat for the remainder of the summer, Auror search or no._

"Potter, we are only doing this to protect you. To keep you safe. I realize that you're feeling a little claustrophobic at the moment, but I don't wish to see you injured, harmed, or kidnapped again this year if we can help it."

_No, I'm feeling exactly like I did when I was training, minus the coercion spells! _Harry's hand tightened on his quill the slightest bit and fought back the memories. He didn't want to remember anything at that moment. He was having a hard enough time just dealing with the idea that he was never alone.

Harry nearly leapt out of his seat in surprise when two callused hands lowered themselves to his shoulders. He leaned back to see Snape looking down at him. There was a new worry line etched into Snape's forehead. "Please, Potter. Try not to be too angry about this. We only want to keep you safe and this is the only way we know how. I have to admit, the other professors and I are a little out of our depth. Attacked by old Death Eaters, kidnapped by centaurs, and practically mangled by the Dark Lord in spirit form is a lot to expect for a seventh year, much less a first year. Add to that your talent for Potions, your Seer abilities and everything else, and you've become a tidy little puzzle that is in constant danger. Surely you understand why we do this?"

Harry stared at the man and realization hit him. He'd had this conversation before, straight out of training when he had been returned to the Order. It had not made sense to him before, but it was very clear now. "You feel helpless." Harry said quietly.

"If you spread that around, you'll be in detention until after you take your NEWTS." Snape told him calmly.

"Yes, sir." Harry turned back to his essay.

"Potter?" Snape said, a question in that single word.

"I don't hate you. You're forgiven for making me feel like I was the one who did something wrong. I dislike having people make my decisions for me." Harry admitted.

"I shall consult you in the future, so long as there is time and your life is not in immediate danger." Snape said calmly.

"Agreed." Harry said as he turned back to his essay. A few minutes later, a cup of tea and his favorite biscuits (or what Snape deemed as his favorite, because he saw Harry eat only this type) appeared on Harry's desk. He ate one absently and pondered the point his professor had given him. He supposed that he was in constant danger. They were only watching out for his safety, like they would for any eleven year old in their care. _Too bad they didn't do this the first time around._

It was only two more weeks and then Harry could leave Hogwarts for the relative freedom of the Muggle world and Knockturn Alley.

* * *

Author's Note 2: Four weeks and counting until graduation! AAAAAAH!


	19. Uncle Remus

Author's Note: Hi gang

Author's Note: Hi gang! Sorry it took so long to update. Things have been crazy. It involves full-time work, ballet, a car crash (my poor little car...it may never be the same again!) and a fussy little muse intent on ignoring me. Please excuse all typos and errors. This is un-betaed, as I wanted to get it out as soon as possible; it has been so long since I last updated. I'll come back and fix things later. This is the last chapter for first year. The next story will be the start of Harry's summer. ;)

* * *

"I have investigated the rumors myself, Severus, and I found them to be unfounded. Harry will return to his relatives home this summer and every summer until he is of age." Dumbledore said firmly to Snape.

"Are you sure, Headmaster? I have heard many rumors of the boy's home life. Can we really take the risk?"

"I daresay the boy and his family squabbled. He'll be fine. Now, no more talk about suspected abuse. The claims are groundless. What of this mysterious student of yours?"

"A mysterious student?" Snape said in a distracted voice. "Headmaster, you really shouldn't listen to groundless rumors. By your leave." Snape stood and left the office, his temper mounting by the second. He warded his private quarters against all intruders and activated the Floo. "Malfoy Manor!"

"Severus?" Lucius Malfoy said on the other side of the flames. "What is it?"

"Dumbledore will not be a problem."

* * *

Harry fastened his jacket and hoisted his backpack onto his shoulder. His trunk was safely shrunken and in his pocket already. Serry had packed him a lunch and snack for the train ride home and informed Harry that he needed to eat all of it. He had promised Serry that he would eat every morsel. Now, he stood in the Entrace Hall, waiting to board the Hogwarts Express the return to London. His first stop would be a meeting with Remus, then a tube station, and then he would head to his flat just outside of Knockturn Alley, in a dark little section of neighborhood called Spider Warren. Neighborhoods like Spider Warren were decaying remnants of previously nice places to live, with their residents so invested in their own lives that many oddities escaped their notice...especially an almost twelve year old boy called the Boy Who Lived.

Harry reached up one hand to rub his forehead. He had a headache and it wasn't going away. It would fade with a painkiller potion, but it would come back at the slightest provocation. He decided it was the stress of returning to the Dursleys...that, and trying to fit a lot of last minute details into exactly one last minute. Quite annoying, really, but he had pushed aside physical discomfort before. He knew how much he could take. It was only a headache, and he supposed it would leave once he finished his two weeks at the Dursleys and move onto better things, even if that was a little flat in Spider Warren.

He looked up when he heard footsteps coming down a side hallway. It was Professor Snape. The man only raised an eyebrow, but Harry seen that sign enough to know what it meant. _We need to talk._ He waited a few minutes before following the man down the hallway. Snape ducked into one of the classrooms and left the door open behind him. Harry pulled out his wand and walked into the room. "Prove you are you," he told Snape.

"I gave you a Potions journal for Christmas," Snape said calmly, waiting for Harry to put away his wand. "Your caution is good."

"I do try not to risk my life more than necessary," Harry said as he took a seat at one of the desks.

"Yes, I thank you for that," Snape turned a desk around to face Harry and sat. "How are you feeling?" Snape asked suddenly.

Harry shrugged a bit. Snape had taken to asking after his health whenever the two spent time together. Harry had a feeling he was reporting his findings to Madame Pomfrey, but kept his suspicions to himself. No reason to give Snape ideas. "Fine," he answered. "A little tired from time to time, as though I didn't get enough sleep the night before. That's all."

"Any soreness? Aches?"

"No, sir. Well, a slight headache, but nothing a painkiller fix." Harry kept a close eye on the clock. It currently read _Almost Time to Leave._ He hoped he would get a warning before he had to get to the carriages.

"Take this with you," Snape said as he pulled out a small leather case. "It has a few potions you may need. Pepper-up and the like. I know you know the correct dosages..."

Harry opened the case and looked inside. Pepper-Up, Soothing potions, pain reliever, sleeping potions...even Dreamless Sleep. "Thank you, sir." He could not articulate how much he appreciated the potions. They were in shatterproof containers, and the case was small enough to hide in a pocket or satchel.

"Should you need more, just owl me...or call me. You'll find my address in there as well." _Severus Snape, paranoid master spy, giving me his Floo address. I feel honored._

"Thank you, sir," Harry could read between the lines. Snape was concerned about him. "What happened with Quirrell?"

"Quirrell is still at St. Mungos, mostly unresponsive to outside stimuli. The medical team assigned to his case remains optimistic as to his changes for recovery." Snape laced his fingers together and studied Harry. "You are returning to your relatives?" Snape asked. They played this game with questions lately, one of question for a question, where Snape would answer a question for Harry, provided Harry answered Snape's questions. As soon as Harry quit answering, so did Snape. Harry had learned to ask the big questions first and minor questions after that. It was the only way to ensure he received the answers he wanted.

"Yes, I am returning to my relatives' house," Harry told him. "Did Dumbledore get rid of the Stone?"

"He assures me that it was dealt with, but he refuses to explain the method." Snape studied Harry. "Are you looking forward to returning to your relatives?"

_Now there is an easy question!_ "And leave all this behind? Professor, I thought you didn't approve of pointless questions?"

"Quote my words back to me, whelp?" Snape gave Harry a half-hearted sneer. "What-"

"It's my turn!" Harry interrupted.

"Very well, ask your question." Snape gave him a tiny 'go ahead' motion for good measure.

"What happened to the Dark Lord?"

"Surely you know that story?" Snape asked, surprised.

"Not that. The Dark Lord sticking out of Quirrell's head."

Snape didn't move or speak for a long, quiet moment. Then he exploded. "WHAT?"

"Er, Dark Lord...possessed Quirrell?" Harry offered in explanation.

"It was a rumor started by the children," Snape bit out, obviously fighting for his center, or control, or whatever it was the man did to keep calm.

"It was the Dark Lord, Professor," Harry said, his tone the same as Snape's, measured and calm. "The Dark Lord possessed Quirrell, and then used Ron Weasley for energy, or magic, or something. I haven't figured that out yet."

Snape stared at him, blinked, and then buried his face in his hands and gave a world-weary sigh. "Potter, do you ever stop being complicated?"

"Pardon?"

"How do you know about Quirrell and the Dark Lord?" Snape was clearly pulling up his endurance; Harry could tell that he was starting to get to Snape.

"I had a dream about it while I was in the Hospital Wing."

"A dream?" Snape paused. "Of course. Why wouldn't you have a dream about it? Random predictions, prophetic dreams. What's next?"

"Me going to the train." Harry said, getting up from the desk.

"Potter!" Harry stopped at Snape's call. "Do let me know if you need anything."

"I will, sir." Harry glanced at the clock and slipped through the door. He dashed down the hall and practically fell down the stairs to reach the carriages.

"Harry, there you are!" Draco said frantically. "Come on, I've been saving you seat." Draco grabbed Harry's arm and tugged him onto the carriage. "Where were you?"

"Oh, just saying good-bye to friend."

* * *

Harry looked up from his book as the train slowed to go into the station. "London!" Hermione said happily.

"Yes, Hermione, London," Ron said patiently. "It's not like you've never been here before."

Harry rolled his eyes at the two Gryffindors and shook his head. Draco snorted from across the aisle and stood from his seat, avoiding Ron's side of the compartment. Draco had spent half the train ride with his friends from Slytherin and the other half with Harry and Hermione. He had ignored Ron for the most part, but that was all to the good, considering that Ron couldn't stand him. Ron hadn't said more than three words to the Slytherin. Still, they hadn't started a physical confrontation, which was a step up from Harry's previous life.

"My parents cannot wait to meet you, Harry. I've told Mum and Dad all about you." Hermione chattered, her excitement about returning home for the summer practically lighting up the compartment.

"You mean you told them about your crush on him, Granger?" Draco asked.

"You take that back!" Ron demanded suddenly, only to be drowned out by Hermione.

"For the _last time_, I do _not_ have a crush on Harry!" Hermione looked close to pulling her wand on the blond.

Harry scoffed loud enough so that all three children turned and looked at him. "I'm going to lock the three of you in this compartment until you stop bickering." Harry told them. The only indication that they had heard was the widening of their eyes. "I'm serious. Stop bickering. It's childish, and slightly annoying to the person forced to listen to it."

"Wow. What happened to you, Harry? You're usually not this...short." _Ah, Hermione, you are the diplomat, aren't you?_

"Sorry, Hermione. I think I'm just a little out of sorts. Going home and all..."

"You don't want to go home?" Hermione asked in a shocked tone.

"Well, no. I can't do magic, and I have to wait until September to read more magic books, unless I buy them, and I can't see my relatives allowing me to purchase new ones. I wanted to stay at school." Harry shrugged. "I'll have to wait."

"My parents mentioned you visiting us this summer, Harry," Draco said. "I would expect an invitation in two weeks or so."

"Thanks, Draco. I'm not sure what my family's plans are, but we'll see what happens." Harry said.

"Sounds good," Draco said, absently helping Hermione sort out her satchel.

"Come on, let's go! The train's stopped!" Ron nearly flew out the door.

Harry nearly tripped over his feet when Hermione suddenly latched onto him and Draco and dragged them from the compartment to the platform. She looked around frantically and then waved to someone. "MUM! DAD! I'M OVER HERE!" Hermione started jumping up and down and then launched herself at her parents.

Harry and Draco stood and snickered at the various pet names her parents called Hermione. The girl finally extracted herself from her parents and turned towards the boys. "Mum, Dad, these are my friends, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. Guys, these are my parents."

Harry saw Draco's eyes go wide. _He must have realized that Hermione's parents are Muggles. This must be an interesting quandary for him. I wonder how he'll respond._ Harry stepped forward and offered his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Granger."

"It's nice to meet you as well, young man." Mr. Granger said. "We've heard quite a bit about you."

Harry only smiled as Draco stepped forward. _Looks like you found some courage in you after all._ Harry thought. Draco had already managed to make the Grangers laugh. _He works fast._

"RON! OVER HERE!" Hermione called to a crowd of redheads. Ron broke away from his family and joined Hermione. "Mum, Dad, this is Ron Weasley."

Harry dug into his bag and pulled out an updated scroll of defense books. He had made a new list of medium-level defense books for Ron. One book, called _Practical Defense for the Determined Student_, was rather thick, but he was convinced that the book should be a part of Hogwarts defense curricula. It not only listed spells by level – from annoying to potentially lethal- but it also gave suggested and creative uses for each spell, recommendations for dueling with each spell, and appendices covering dueling practices, combat scenarios, and even laws concerning self-defense for various countries. It was a gold mine, in Harry's opinion.

"Hey, Ron," Harry said quietly, slipping away from Draco and Hermione. "This is the new list I was talking about." He handed the scroll to Ron. "I put stars next to the essential books, so I would recommend actually purchasing those if you can. The rest can come from the library or borrowed, if you like.

Ron nodded and opened the parchment. His eyes grew wide at the detailed list. "Blimey, Harry. You have practically every subject listed.

"Knowledge is power, Ron. Defense shouldn't be limited to the Dark Arts. You can use Transfiguration or Herbology in defense, just as well as the Disarming Spell." Harry could see that Ron was skeptical. "Imagine turning your opponent into a butterfly..."

"Ah, I see," Ron said thoughtfully.

"Read through these this summer, and we'll get together at school, perhaps get some practice in."

"Thank you, Harry," Ron looked ready to say more when he winced at his mother's sharp call. "I have to go. Have a good summer, okay, Harry?"

"You too, Ron." Harry returned. Ron dashed off towards his family, calling a quick good-bye to Hermione and his parents. Harry shook his head in bemusement. Ron was different, but he still had the old enthusiasm Harry had known. It would be that enthusiasm and this new determination that would ensure his success in the coming war..._if_ there was a war.

"There they are!" Harry heard Narcissa Malfoy say. He turned and saw the Malfoys coming through the crowd towards them. Harry rejoined Draco and Hermione and prepared himself to greet Narcissa and her mothering skills. "Oh, welcome home, boys." Narcissa drew the both of them into her arms and proceeded to strangle them with affection.

"Hi, Mrs. Malfoy," Harry said as she released him. "I hope you're well." Narcissa only smiled and nodded. Harry could read between the lines: she was happy now that her child had returned home.

After Harry and Draco greeted the Malfoys, Harry introduced them to Hermione and her family. Harry saw the slightest hint of hesitation from them, but they did manage a few polite words before giving their good-byes. Hermione told them that she would write to them before leaving with her parents. Harry picked up his bag and turned to say good-bye to the Malfoys. "I hope you have a good summer, Draco."

"You, too. Just be sure you don't bury yourself under your books."

"Don't fall off your broom," Harry told him quietly. He turned to the adults. "It was good to see you again."

"We were hoping to meet your relatives, Harry," Harry felt himself go a little cold at Narcissa's words. "When are they arriving?"

"They're not," Harry said calmly. "They've arranged transportation for me." Harry pulled on his cap and shrugged. "I need to leave now to catch my bus, so if you'll excuse me?"

"We could-"

"Not dream of keeping you," Lucius interrupted his wife. "Are you sure you'll be alright on your own?"

"Quite sure, Mr. Malfoy. My family trusts me on familiar trips." Harry gave a half-hearted smile to everyone there and left the Malfoys.

"Are you just going to let him go off on his own?" He heard Narcissa hiss to her husband. He didn't hear Mr. Malfoy's reply. He left the train station as quickly as possible and found the nearest Metro station. He had an appointment to keep with a friend.

* * *

Harry walked into the tiny diner Remus told him about and sat down at a table. A waitress bustled up, dispensed ice water and menu, and then paused. "Are you here by yourself?" She asked Harry, her voice taking on the "I'm talking to a child" tone Harry was secretly beginning to hate.

"No ma'am. My uncle had to park our car. He asked me to come in and find a table," Harry told her. "He should be here in just a second."

"Oh, all right. May I get you something to drink?" She asked, pointing him to the beverage options on the back of the menu. He skimmed through the offerings and smiled back at her.

"Just water, thanks. Uncle Remus says I drink too much sugar." Harry saw her smile and snickered inside his head. So easily misled...

"You be sure to tell your uncle he's a smart man. I'll be back to get your orders when he gets here, okay?"

"Thank you," Harry said. She scurried away to wait on another table and Harry saw Remus through the window. He waved to get the man's attention. Remus saw him and waved back. He dropped into the seat across from Harry and received the same attention as Harry regarding a beverage. Remus ended up with hot tea and a shocked expression.

"Is it just me, or is she really quick on her feet?" Remus asked.

"She's a professional," Harry told him with a shrug. "I'm just grateful she left me alone after I told her my uncle was coming."

"Yes, about that. What did you mean that you weren't worried about a place to stay this summer?"

"I'm going to my relatives only at night. The rest of the time, I'll be out and about. Mostly at my flat."

"Your flat?" Remus blinked. He wasn't sure he heard right. Had Harry said that he had a flat?

"Yes, my flat. I found one at Christmastime and I'll be spending the majority of my time there."

"Harry, you know I said you could stay with me, if you wanted to do so."

"I know. This is the first place that I've had that is all mine. Not my parents, not Sirius', not the Dursleys', not Hogwarts...mine." Harry waited while Remus studied him. The man seemed to be looking for something.

"Alright. I can see how much that means to you." Remus said reluctantly.

"More than you can know, Remus," Harry answered. "More than you can know." Harry smiled at the waitress as she came back and gave his order when she asked what he would have. Remus had to make a quick decision, and the waitress was off again.

"How does she do it?' Remus asked rhetorically.

"I'm not sure I want to know." Harry said. The pair talked about school matters and the fact that Voldemort (known as Tommy boy between the pair) was still out there. Harry told Remus that the Horcrux hunt would be underway once Harry turned twelve. "I know where they are, you see. They're safe for now. No one is disturbing them, and I have to admit I need time to devise how to get to one or two of them. I mean, the last time required a bit more effort than I wanted to expend. Quite frightening, really."

"Harry, why don't you let me handle them?" Remus asked.

"I can't let you handle them. It's my task." Harry studied his hands, only to look up sharply at Remus' next comment.

"Bollocks."

Harry stared at him. Had Remus just used...

"Your problem, Harry, is that you don't know how to ask for help. I don't know who told you that this was your task alone, but I refuse to just sit by and twiddle my thumbs while you're running around..." Remus had to pause as their food arrived. Harry smirked at the chips on his plate and decided he _liked_ going against direct orders, especially in terms of food. He would eat balanced meals, but every occasionally couldn't hurt, right? "running around, risking your life and currently tiny limbs!"

Harry stared at him, sure that his eyes were going to pop out of his head. Had Remus really just said that? He hadn't felt that way before, had he? When Harry was older and stuck with that horrible training? Had he 'twiddled his thumbs' then? "I-"

"Don't say anything now. Just know that I'm here, and I'm capable of helping you, for most of the days of the month." Remus gave him a sheepish smile.

"Ok." Harry agreed, afraid to do anything else. Sirius had once told him that Remus could be quite vehement when he so chose, but Harry hadn't really seen it the way Sirius had while he was at Grimmauld Place. It was a little intimidating.

"You should eat," Remus said, sliding into his role of affable uncle. "You're still a little scrawny.

Harry did the most mature thing he could think of at that point. Unfortunately, it involved making a face at Remus, so it didn't come off as the brilliant argument he had hoped it would be. Things couldn't always go his way, could they? He and Remus spent their meal in small talk, discussing the finer points of Harry's classes, Remus's new job, and their future plans to get together some time during the summer to plot and plan things like Sirius's release from prison, the search for Tommy boy's toys, and how to save the world. The waitress thought them terribly amusing and hovered to hear more of the fantasy story the two were obviously writing between them.

* * *

Author's Note 2: That had to be the hardest chapter I've had to write in a long time. Look for the sequel!


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